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FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE
THE

WILL TO POWER

AN ATTEMPTED
TRANSVALUATWN OF ALL VALUES

TRANSLATED BY

ANTHONY M. LUDOVICI

VOL. II
Books III and IV

LONDON : GEORGE ALLEN W UNWIN LTD.
RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. 1

First published

Reprinted. . ' ' ■■■■

Reprinted. . ' * * x9*4

1924

{All tights reserved)

Printed tn Great Brttain

J

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

Translator's Preface

PAGE

vii

THIRD BOOK. THE PRINCIPLES OF A NEW
VALUATION.

I. The Will to Power in Science—

(a) The Method of Investigation

(b) The Starting-Point of Epistemology

(c) The Belief in the " Ego." Subject
{d) Biology of the Instinct of Knowledge. Per-

spectivity - - - -

(e) The Origin of Reason and Logic -
(/) Consciousness -
(«£") Judgment. True — False -

(h) Against Causality -

(/) The Thing-in- Itself and Appearance

(k) The Metaphysical Need -

(/) The Biological Value of Knowledge
(m) Science - - - -

II. The Will to Power in Nature—
i. The Mechanical Interpretation of the World

2. The Will to Power as Life—

(a) The Organic Process -

(b) Man

3. Theory of the Will to Power and of Valuations

3

5
12

20
26
38
43
53
62

74
96

99
109

- 123

- 132

- 161

$\

vi CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

PAGE

III. The Will to Power as Exemplified in

Society and in the Individual —

i. Society and the State - - - - 183

2. The Individual - - - - - 214

IV. The Will to Power in Art - - - 239

FOURTH BOOK. DISCIPLINE AND BREEDING.

I. The Order of Rank—

1. The Doctrine of the Order of Rank - - 295

2. The Strong and the Weak - 298

3. The Noble Man - - - - - 350

4. The Lords of the Earth - - - 360

5. The Great Man - - - - - 366

6. The Highest Man as Lawgiver of the Future - 373

II. Dionysus - - - - - - 388

III. Eternal Recurrence - • • -422

EDITOR'S FOREWORD

The two volumes of The Will to Power have
been revised afresh by their translator. He, the
most gifted and conscientious of my collaborators,
would have added his corrections to the second
edition of these books, had it not been that five
years of war and war-service prevented him from
accomplishing a task which he always judged
necessary. The changes made are numerous and
well able to throw light upon many a dark passage,
but the actual faults of translation were few in
number, so that the first and second editions are
by no means invalidated by this third one.

OSCAR LEVY.

Paris, ist March 1924.

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

For the history of the text constituting this volume
I would refer readers to my preface to The Will to
Power \ Books I. and II., where they will also find
a brief explanation of the actual title of the com-
plete work.

In the two books before us Nietzsche boldly
carries his principle still further into the various
departments of human life, and does not shrink
from showing its application even to science, to
art, and to metaphysics.

Throughout Part I. of the Third Book we find
him going to great pains to impress the fact upon
us that science is as arbitrary as art in its mode of
procedure, and that the knowledge of the scientist
is but the outcome of his inexorable will to power
interpreting facts in the terms of the self-pre-
servative conditions of the particular order of human
beings to which he belongs. . In Aphorisms 515
and 5 1 6, which are typical of almost all the thought
expressed in Part I., Nietzsche says distinctly :
* The object is not ' to know,' but to schematise, —
to impose as much regularity and form upon chaos
as our practical needs require."

Unfamiliarity, constant change, and the inability
to reckon with possibilities, are sources of great

viii translator's preface.

danger : hence, everything must be explained, as-
similated, and rendered capable of calculation, if
Nature is to be mastered and controlled.

Schemes for interpreting earthly phenomena
must be devised which, though they do not require
to be absolute or irrefutable, must yet favour the
maintenance of the kind of men that devises them.
Interpretation thus becomes all important, and
facts sink down to the rank of raw material which
must first be given some shape (some sense —
always anthropocentric) before they can become
serviceable.

Even the development of reason and logic
Nietzsche consistently shows to be but a spiritual
development of the physiological function of diges-
tion which compels an organism to make things
" like " (to " assimilate ") before it can absorb them
(Aph. 510). And seeing that he denies that
hunger can be a first motive (Aphs. 651-656),
and proceeds to show that it is the amoeba's will
to power which makes it extend its pseudopodia
in search of what it can appropriate, and that, once
the appropriated matter is enveloped, it is a process
of making similar which constitutes the process of
absorption, reason itself is by inference acknow-
ledged to be merely a form of the same funda-
mental will.

An interesting and certainly inevitable outcome
of Nietzsche's argument appears in Aph. 5 1 6,
where he declares that even our inability to deny
and affirm one and the same thing is not in the
least " necessary," but only a sign of inability.

The whole argument of Part I. tends to draw

TRANSLATORS PREFACE IX

science ever nearer and nearer to art (except, of
course, in those cases in which science happens to
consist merely of an ascertainment of facts), and
to prove that the one like the other is no more
than a means of gaining some foothold upon the
slippery soil of a world that is for ever in flux.

In the rush and pell-mell of Becoming, some
milestones must be fixed for the purposes of human
orientation. In the torrent of evolutionary changes
pillars must be made to stand, to which man can
for a space hold tight and collect his senses.
Science, like art, accomplishes this for us, and it
is our will to power which " creates the impression
of Being out of Becoming" (Aph. 5 17).

According to this standpoint, then, consciousness
is also but a weapon in the service of the will to
power, and it extends or contracts according to
our needs (Aph. 524). It might disappear al-
together (Aph. 523), or, on the other hand, it might
increase and make our life more complicated than
it already is. But we should guard against making
it the Absolute behind Becoming, simply because
it happens to be the highest and most recent evolu-
tionary form (Aph. 709). If we had done this
with each newly acquired characteristic, sight itself,
which is a relatively recent development, would
also have required to have been deified.

Pantheism, Theism, Unitarianism — in fact all
religions in which a conscious god is worshipped,
are thus aptly classed by Nietzsche as the result
of man's desire to elevate that which is but a new
and wonderful instrument of his will to power, to
the chief place in the imaginary world beyond

X TRANSLATORS PREFACE.

(eternal soul), and to make it even the deity itself
(God Omniscient).

With the question of Truth we find Nietzsche
quite as ready to uphold his thesis as with all other
questions. He frankly declares that " the criterion
of truth lies in the enhancement of the feeling of
power" (Aph. 534), and thus stands in diametrical
opposition to Spencer, who makes constraint or
inability the criterion of truth. (See Principles
of Psychology, new edition, chapter ix. . . . "the
unconceivableness of its negation is the ultimate
test of the truth of a proposition.")

However paradoxical Nietzsche's view may seem,
we shall find that it is actually substantiated by
experience ; for the activity of our senses certainly
convinces us more or less according to the degree
to which it is provoked. Thus, if we walked for
long round a completely dark room, and everything
yielded, however slightly, to our touch, we should
remain quite unconvinced that we were in a
room at all, more particularly if — to suppose a
still more impossible case — the floor yielded too.
What provokes great activity in the bulbs of our
fingers, then, likewise generates the sensation of
truth.

From this Nietzsche proceeds to argue that what
provokes the strongest sentiments in ourselves is
also true to us, and, from the standpoint of thought,
" that which gives thought the greatest sensation
of strength " (Aph. 533).

The provocation of intense emotion, and there-
fore the provocation of that state in which the
body is above the normal in power, thus becomes

TRANSLATORS PREFACE. XI

the index to truth ; and it is a very remarkable
thing that two prominent English thinkers should,
at the very end of their careers, have practically
admitted this, despite the fact that all their philo-
sophical productions had been based upon a com-
pletely different belief. I refer, of course, to
Spencer and Buckle, who both upheld the view
that in a system of thought the emotional factor
is of the highest importance.

It follows from all this, that lies and false
doctrines may quite conceivably prove to be even
more preservative to species than truth itself, and
although this is a view we have already encountered
in the opening aphorisms of Beyond Good and
Evil, in Aph. 538 of this volume we find it
further elucidated by Nietzsche's useful demon-
stration of the fact that " the easier way of think-
ing always triumphs over the more difficult way " ;
and that logic, inasmuch as it facilitated classifica-
tion and orderly thought, ultimately " got to act
like truth."

Before leaving Part I., with which it would be
impossible to deal in full, a word or two ought to
be said in regard to Nietzsche's views concerning
the belief in " cause and effect." In the Genealogy
of Morals (1st Essay, Aph. 13), we have already
read a forecast of our author's more elaborate
opinions on this question, and the aphorism in
question might be read with advantage in conjunc-
tion with the discussion on the subject found in this
book (Aphs. 545-552).

The whole of Nietzsche's criticism, however, re-
solves itself into this, that the doctrine of causality

xii translator's preface.

begins with an unnecessary duplication of all that
happens. Language, and its origin among a people
uneducated in thoughts and concepts, is at the root
of this scientific superstition, and Nietzsche traces
its evolution from the primeval and savage desire
always to find a " doer " behind every deed : to find
some one who is responsible and who, being known,
thus modifies the unfamiliarity of the deed which
requires explaining. " The so-called instinct of
causality [of which Kant speaks with so much as-
surance] is nothing more than the fear of the
unfamiliar."

In Aph. 585 (A), we have a very coherent and
therefore valuable exposition of much that may
still seem obscure in Nietzsche's standpoint, and
we might almost regard this aphorism as the key
to the epistemology of the Will to Power. When
we find the " will to truth " defined merely as " the
longing for a stable world," we are in possession of
the very leitmotiv of Nietzsche's thought through-
out Part I., and most of what follows is clearly but
an elaboration of this thought.

In Part II. Nietzsche reveals himself as utterly
opposed to all mechanistic and materialistic inter-
pretations of the Universe. He exalts the spirit
and repudiates the idea that mere pressure from
without — naked environment — is to be held re-
sponsible (and often guilty !) for all that material-
istic science would lay at its door. Darwin again
comes in for a good deal of sharp criticism ; and,
to those who are familiar with the nature of
Nietzsche's disagreement with this naturalist, such
aphorisms as Nos. 643, 647, 649, 651, 684, 685,

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. xiii

will be of special interest. There is one question
of great moment, which all Nietzsche's perfectly
sincere and profoundly serious deprecation of the
Darwinian standpoint ought to bring home to all
Englishmen who have perhaps too eagerly endorsed
the conclusions of their own British school of organic
evolution, and that is, to what extent were Malthus,
and afterwards his disciple Darwin, perhaps influ-
enced in their analysis of nature by preconceived
notions drawn from the state of high pressure which
prevailed in the thickly-populated and industrial
country in which they both lived ?

It is difficult to defend Darwin from the funda-
mental attack which Nietzsche directs at the very
root of his teaching, and which turns upon the
question of the motive of all Life's struggle. To
assume that the motive is always a " struggle for
existence" presupposes the constant presence of
two conditions — want and over-population, — an
assumption which is absolutely non-proven ; and
it likewise lends a peculiarly ignoble and cowardly
colouring to the whole of organic life, which not
only remains unsubstantiated in fact, but which the
" struggle for power " completely escapes.

In Part III., which, throughout, is pretty plain
sailing, Aphorism 786 contains perhaps the most
important statements. Here morality is shown
to be merely an instrument, but this time it is the
instrument of the gregarious will to power. In
the last paragraph of this aphorism Nietzsche
shows himself quite antagonistic to Determinism,
because of its intimate relation to, and its origin
in, a mechanistic interpretation of the Universe.

XIV TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

But we should always remember that, inasmuch
as Nietzsche would distribute beliefs, just as others
distribute bounties — that is to say, according to the
needs of those whom he has in view, we must never
take for granted that a belief which he deprecates
for one class of man ought necessarily, according
to him, to be denied another class.

Hard as it undoubtedly is to bear this in mind,
we should remember that his appeal is almost
without interruption made to higher men, and that
doctrines and creeds which he condemns for them
he would necessarily exalt in the case of people
who were differently situated and otherwise con-
stituted. Christianity is a case in point (see Will
to Power \ vol. i. Aph. 132).

We now come to Part IV., which is possibly the
most important part of all, seeing that it treats
of those questions which may be regarded as
Nietzsche's most constant concern from the time
when he wrote his first book.

The world as we now see and know it, with all
that it contains which is beautiful, indifferent, or
ugly, from a human standpoint, is, according to
Nietzsche, the creation of our own valuing minds.
Perhaps only a few people have had a hand in
shaping this world of values. Maybe their number
could be counted on the fingers of two hands ; but
still, what Nietzsche insists upon is, that it is human
in its origin. Our whole outlook, everything that
gives us joy or pain, must at one time or other
have been valued for us, and in persisting in these
valuations we, as the acclimatised herd, are indebted
to our artists, to our higher men, to all those in

translator's PREFACE. XV

history, who at some time or other have dared to
stand up and to declare emphatically that this
was ugly and that that was beautiful, and to fight,
and if necessary to die, for their opinion.

Religion, morality, and philosophy, while they
all aim at so-called universal Truth, tend to de-
preciate the value of life in the eyes of exceptional
men. Though they establish the " beautiful " for
the general stock, and in that way enhance the
value of life for that stock, they contradict higher
men's values, and, by so doing, destroy their in-
nocent faith in the world. For the problem here is
not, what value is true ? — but, what value is most
conducive to the highest form of human life on
earth ?

Nietzsche would fain throw all the burden of
valuing upon the Dionysian artist — him who speaks
about this world out of the love and plenitude of
power that is in his own breast, him who, from the
very health that is within him, cannot look out up-
on life without transfiguring it, hallowing it, bless-
ing it, and making it appear better, bigger, and
more beautiful. And, in this view, Nietzsche is
quite consistent ; for, if we must accept his con-
clusion that our values are determined for us by
our higher men, then it becomes of the highest
importance that these valuers should be so con-
stituted that their values may be a boon and not
a bane to the rest of humanity.

Alas ! only too often, and especially in the
nineteenth century, have men who lacked this
Dionysian spirit stood up and valued the world ;
and it is against these that Nietzsche protests. It

xvi translator's preface.

is the bad air they have spread which he would
fain dispel.

As to what art means to the artist himself,
apart from its actual effect on the world, Nietzsche
would say that it is a manner of discharging his
will to power. The artist tries to stamp his opinion
of what is desirable, and of what is beautiful or
ugly, upon his contemporaries and the future ; it
is in this valuing that his impulse to prevail finds
its highest expression. Hence the instinctive
economy of artists in sex matters — that is to say,
in precisely that quarter whither other men go
when their impulse to prevail urges them to action.
Nietzsche did not of course deny the sensual nature
of artists (Aph. 815); all he wished to make plain
was this, that an artist who was not moderate,
in eroticis, while engaged upon his task, was open
to the strongest suspicion.

In the Fourth Book Nietzsche is really at his
very best. Here, while discussing questions such
as " The Order of Rank," he is so thoroughly in
his exclusive sphere, that practically every line,
even if it were isolated and taken bodily from the
context, would bear the unmistakable character
of its author. The thought expressed in Aphorism
871 reveals a standpoint as new as it is necessary.
So used have we become to the practice of writing
and legislating for a mass, that we have forgotten
the rule that prevails even in our own navy —
that the speed of a fleet is measured by its slowest
vessel.

On the same principle, seeing that all our philo-
sophies and moralities have hitherto been directed

TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. XV11

at a mass and at a mob, we find that their eleva-
tion must of necessity be decided by the lowest
of mankind. Thus all passions are banned, be-
cause base men do not know how to enlist them
in their service. Men who are masters of them-
selves and of others, men who understand the
management and privilege of passion, become the
most despised of creatures in such systems of
thought, because they are confounded with the
vicious and licentious ; and the speed of man-
kind's elevation thus gets to be determined by
humanity's slowest vessels.

Aphorisms 881, 882, 886 fully elucidate the
above considerations, while in 912, 916, 943, and
951 we have plans of a constructive teaching
which the remainder of Part I. elaborates. '

And now, following Nietzsche carefully through
Part II. (Dionysus), what is the inevitable con-
clusion of all we have read ? This analysis of
the world's collective values and their ascription
to a certain " will to power " may now seem to
many but an exhaustive attempt at a new system
of nomenclature, and little else. As a matter oj
fact it is very much more than this. By mean?
of it Nietzsche wishes to show mankind how much
has lain, and how much still lies, in man's power
By laying his finger on everything and declaring
to man that it was human will that created it
Nietzsche wished to give man the courage of thi<
will, and a clean conscience in exercising it. For
it was precisely this very will to power which had
been most hated and most maligned by every bocy
up to Nietzsche's time.

xviii translator's preface.

Long enough, prompted by the fear of attribut-
ing any one of his happiest thoughts to this hated
fundamental will, had man ascribed all his valua-
tions and all his most sublime inspirations to
something outside himself, — whether this some-
thing were a God, a principle, or the concept
Truth. But Nietzsche's desire was to show man
how human, all too human, have been the values
that have appeared heretofore ; he wished to prove,
that to the rare sculptors of values, the world,
despite its past, is still an open field of yielding
clay, and in pointing to what the will to power has
done until now, Nietzsche suggests to these com-
ing sculptors what might still be done, provided
they fear nothing, and have that innocence and
that profound faith in the fundamental will which
others hitherto have had in God, Natural Laws,
Truth, and other euphemistic fictions.

The doctrine of Eternal Recurrence, to which
Nietzsche attached so much importance that it
may be regarded almost as the inspiration which
led to his great work, Thus Spake Zarathustra^
ought to be understood in the light of a purely
disciplinary and chastening creed. In one of his
posthumous works we find Nietzsche saying : " The
question which thou shalt have to answer before
every deed that thou doest : — is this such a deed
as I am prepared to perform an incalculable
number of times, — is the best ballast." Thus
it is obvious that, feeling the need of something
in his teaching which would replace the meta-
physics of former beliefs, he applied the doctrine
jiof Eternal Recurrence to this end. Seeing, how-

TRANSLATORS PREFACE. XIX

ever, that even among Nietzscheans themselves
there is considerable doubt concerning the actual
value of the doctrine as a ruling belief, it does not
seem necessary to enter here into the scientific
justification which he claims for it. Suffice it to
say that, as knowledge stands at present, the state-
ment that the world will recur eternally in small
things as in great, is still a somewhat daring con-
jecture— a conjecture, however, which would have
been entirely warrantable if its disciplinary value
had been commensurate with its daring.

ANTHONY M. LUDOVICI.

THIRD BOOK.

THE PRINCIPLES OF A NEW
VALUATION.

I.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.
(a) The Method of Investigation.

466.

The distinguishing feature of our nineteenth :i
century is not the triumph of science, but the j]
triumph of the scientific method over science.

n

467.

The history of scientific methods was regarded
by Auguste Comte almost as philosophy itself.

468.

The great Methodologists : Aristotle, Bacon,
Descartes, Auguste Comte.

469.

The most valuable knowledge is always dis-
covered last : but the most valuable knowledge
consists of methods.

4 THE WILL TO POWER.

All methods, all the hypotheses on which the
science of our day depends, were treated with the
profoundest contempt for centuries : on their
account a man used to be banished from the
society of respectable people — he was held to be
an " enemy of God" a reviler of the highest ideal,
a madman.

We had the whole pathos of mankind against
us, — our notion of what " truth " ought to be,
of what the service of truth ought to be, our
objectivity, our method, our calm, cautious and
distrustful manner were altogether despicable. . . .
At bottom, that which has kept men back most,
is an aesthetic taste : they believed in the pictu-
resque effect of truth ; what they demanded of the
scientist was, that he should make a strong appeal
to their imagination.

From the above, it would almost seem as if the
very reverse had been achieved, as if a sudden
jump had been made: as a matter of fact, the
schooling which the moral hyperboles afforded,
gradually prepared the way for that milder form
of pathos which at last became incarnate in the
scientific man. . . .

Conscientiousness in small things, the self-control
of the religious man, was a preparatory school for
the scientific character, as was also, in a very
pre-eminent sense, the attitude of mind which
makes a man take problems seriously \ irrespective
of what personal advantage he may derive from
them. . . .

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE, 5

(b) The Starting-point of Epistemology.

470.

Profound disinclination to halt once and for all
at any collective view of the world. The charm
of the opposite point of view : the refusal to re-
linquish the stimulus residing in the enigmatical.

471.

The hypothesis that, at bottom, things proceed
in such a moral fashion that human reason must
be rights is a mere piece of good-natured and
simple-minded trustfulness, the result of the belief
in Divine truthfulness — God regarded as the
Creator of all things. — These concepts are our in-
heritance from a former existence in a Beyond.

472.

The contradiction of the so-called " facts of
consciousness." Observation a thousand times
more difficult, error is perhaps the absolute con-
dition of observation.

473-

The intellect cannot criticise itself, simply be-
cause it can be compared with no other kind of
intellect, and also because its ability to know , A P

would only reveal itself in the presence of " actual
reality " ; that is to say, because, in order to
criticise the intellect, we should have to be higher

6 THE WILL TO POWER.

creatures with " absolute knowledge." This would
presuppose the existence of something, a " thing-
in-itself," apart from all the perspective kinds of
observation and senso-spiritual perception. But
the psychological origin of the belief in things,
forbids our speaking of " things in themselves."

474-

The idea that a sort of adequate relation exists
between subject and object, that the object is some-
thing which when seen from inside would be a
subject, is a well-meant invention which, I believe,
has seen its best days. The measure of that
which we are conscious of, is perforce entirely
dependent upon the coarse utility of the function
of consciousness : how could this little garret-
prospect of consciousness warrant our asserting
anything in regard to " subject " and " object,"
which would bear any relation to reality !

475.

Criticism of modern philosophy: erroneous
starting-point, as if there were such things as
" facts of consciousness " — and no phenomenalism
in introspection.

476.

" Consciousness " — to what extent is the idea
which is thought of, the idea of will, or the idea
of a feeling (which is known by us alone), quite
superficial ? Our inner world is also " appearance " |

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

d

477-

I am convinced of the phenomenalism of the
inner world also : everything that reaches our
consciousness is utterly and completely adjusted,
simplified, schematised, interpreted, — the actual
process of inner " perception," the relation of causes
between thoughts, feelings, desires, between subject
and object, is absolutely concealed from us, and I
may be purely imaginary. This " inner world of }
appearance" is treated with precisely the same
forms and procedures as the " outer " world. We
never come across a single " fact " : pleasure
and pain are more recently evolved intellectual
phenomena. ...

Causality evades us ; to assume the existence
of an immediate causal relation between thoughts,
as Logic does, is the result of the coarsest and
most clumsy observation. There are all sorts of
passions that may intervene between two thoughts :
but the interaction is too rapid — that is why we
fail to recognise them, that is why we actually
deny their existence. . . .

" Thinking," as the epistemologists understand
it, never takes place at all : it is an absolutely
gratuitous fabrication, arrived at by selecting one
element from the process and by eliminating all
the rest — an artificial adjustment for the purpose
of the understanding. . . .

The " mind," something that thinks : at times,
even, " the mind absolute and pure " — this concept
is an evolved and second result of false intro-
spection, which believes in " thinking " : in the first

J

1

8 THE WILL TO POWER,

place an act is imagined here which does not
really occur at all, i.e. " thinking " ; and, secondly,
a subject-substratum is imagined in which every
p/ocess of this thinking has its origin, and nothing
else — that is to say, both the action and the agent
are fanciful.

478.

Phenomenalism must not be sought in the wrong
quarter : nothing is more phenomenal, 01 , to be more
precise, nothing is so much deception, as this inner
world, which we observe with the " inner sense."

Our belief that the will is a cause was so great,
that, according to our personal experiences in
general, we projected a cause into all phenomena
{i.e. a certain motive is posited as the cause of
all phenomena).

We believe that the thoughts which follow one
upon the other in our minds are linked by some
sort of causal relation : the logician, more especially,
who actually speaks of a host of facts which have
never once been seen in reality, has grown ac-
customed to the prejudice that thoughts are the
cause of thoughts.

We believe — and even our philosophers believe
it still — that pleasure and pain are the causes of
reactions, that the very purpose of pleasure and
pain is to occasion reactions. For hundreds of
years, pleasure and pain have been represented as
the motives for every action. Upon reflection,
however, we are bound to concede that everything
would have proceeded in exactly the same way,
according to precisely the same sequence of cause

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

and effect, if the states " pleasure " and " pain '
had been entirely absent ; and that we are simply
deceived when we believe that they actually cause
anything : — they are the attendant phenomena, and
they have quite a different purpose from that of
provoking reactions ; they are in themselves effects
involved in the process of reaction which takes
place.

In short: Everything that becomes conscious
is a final phenomenon, a conclusion — and is the
cause of nothing ; all succession of phenomena in
consciousness is absolutely atomistic. — And we
tried to understand the universe from the opposite
point of view — as if nothing were effective or
real, save thinking, feeling, willing! . . . _._.

479-

The phenomenalism of the " innet world? A
chronological inversion takes place, so that the
cause reaches consciousness as the effect. — We \r
know that pain is projected into a certain part
of the body although it is not really situated
there ; we have learnt that all sensations which
were ingenuously supposed to be conditioned by
the outer world are, as a matter of fact, conditioned
by the inner world : that the real action of the

? outer world never takes place in a way of which
we can become conscious. . . . That fragment of
the outer world of which we become conscious, is \
born after the effect produced by the outer world ]
has been recorded, and is subsequently interpreted /
as the " cause " of that effect. . . .

h

44'

(f

IO THE WILL TO POWER

In the phenomenalism of the "inner world," the
chronological order of cause and effect is inverted.
The fundamental fact of " inner experience " is,
that the cause is imagined after the effect has been
recorded. . . . The same holds good of the sequence
of thoughts : we seek for the reason of a thought,
before it has reached our consciousness ; and then
the reason reaches consciousness first, whereupon
follows its effect. . . . All our dreams are the in-
terpretation of our collective feelings with the view
of discovering the possible causes of the latter ; and
the process is such that a condition only becomes
conscious, when the supposed causal link has
reached consciousness.#

The whole of " inner experience " is founded on
•^'» v i this : that a cause is sought and imagined which
I accounts for a certain irritation in our nerve-centres,
and that it is only the cause which is found in this
way which reaches consciousness ; this cause may
have absolutely nothing to do with the real cause
— it is a sort of groping assisted by former " inner
experiences," that is to say, by memory. The
memory, however, retains the habit of old inter-
pretations,— that is to say, of erroneous causality,
I — so that " inner experience " comprises in itself
all the results of former erroneous fabrications of
causes. Our " outside world," as we conceive it
every instant, is indissolubly bound up with the

* When in our dream we hear a bell ringing, or a tapping
at our door, we scarcely ever wake before having already
accounted for the sound, in the terms of the dream-world
we were in. — Tr.

*

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. II

old error of cause : we interpret by means of the
schematism of " the thing," etc.

" Inner experience " only enters consciousness
when it has found a language which the individual
can understand — that is to say, a translation of a
certain condition into conditions with which he is
familiar ; " understand " means simply this :
to be able to express something new in the terms
of something old or familiar. For instance, " I
feel unwell " — a judgment of this sort presupposes
a very great and recent neutrality on the part of the
observer : the simple man always says, " This and
that make me feel unwell," — he begins to be clear
concerning his indisposition only after he has dis-
covered a reason for it. . . . This is what I call
a lack of philological knowledge ; to be able to read
a text, as such, without reading an interpretation
into it, is the latest form of " inner experience," —
it is perhaps a barely possible form. . . .

480

There are no such things as "mind," reason,
thought, consciousness, soul, will, or truth : they
all belong to fiction, and can serve no purpose. It
is not a question of " subject and object," but of a
particular species of animal which can prosper onl
by means of a certain exactness, or, better still, re-
gularity in recording its perceptions (in order that
experience may be capitalised). . . .

Knowledge works as an instrument of power
It is therefore obvious that it increases with each
advance of power. . . .

12 THE WILL TO POWER.

The purpose of " knowledge " : in this case, as

in the case of " good " or " beautiful," the concept

must be regarded strictly and narrowly from an

anthropocentric and biological standpoint. In

order that a particular species may maintain and

increase its power, its conception of reality must

contain enough which is calculable and constant to

allow of its formulating a scheme of conduct. The

I utility of preservation — and not some abstract or

I theoretical need to eschew deception — stands as

I \. the motive force behind the development of the

I organs of knowledge ; . . . they evolve in such a

way that their observations may suffice for our

preservation. In other words, the measure of the

desire for knowledge depends upon the extent to

which the Will to Pozver grows in a certain species :

a species gets a grasp of a given amount of reality,

in order to master it} in order to enlist that amount

in its service.

(c) The Belief in the " Ego." Subject.

481.

In opposition to Positivism, which halts at
phenomena and says, " These are only facts and
nothing more," I would say : No, facts are precisely
what is lacking, all that exists consists of interpreta-
tions. We cannot establish any fact " in itself" : it
may even be nonsense to desire to do such a thing.
" Everything is subjective" ye say : but that in it-
self is interpretation. The " subject " is nothing
given, but something superimposed by fancy, some-

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 1 3

thing introduced behind. — Is it necessary to set an f
interpreter behind the interpretation already to
hand ? Even that would be fantasy, hypothesis.

To the extent to which knowledge has any '
sense at all, the world is knowable : but it may be .
interpreted differently \ it has not one sense behind \
it, but hundreds of senses. — " Perspectivity."

/It is our needs that interpret the world; our in-
stincts and their impulses for and against. Every
instinct is a sort of thirst for power ; each has its
point of view, which it would fain impose upon all
the other instincts as their norm.

I

482.

Where our ignorance really begins, at that point
from which we can see no further, we set a word ;
for instance, the word " I," the word " do," the word
" suffer" — these concepts may be the horizon lines
of our knowledge, but they are not " truths."

483.

Owing to the phenomenon " thought," the ego
is taken for granted ; but up to the present every-
body believed, like the people, that there was
something unconditionally certain in the notion
" I think," and that by analogy with our under-
standing of all other causal reactions this " I " was
the given cause of the thinking. However custom-
ary and indispensable this fiction may have become
now, this fact proves nothing against the imagin-

\

14 THE WILL TO POWER.

ary nature of its origin ; it might be a life-preserving
belief and still be false.

484-

" Something is thought, therefore there is some-
thing that thinks " : this is what Descartes' argu-
ment amounts to. But this is tantamount to
considering our belief in the notion " substance " as
an a priori truth: — that there must be something
" that thinks " when we think, is merely a formula-
tion of a grammatical custom which sets an agent
to every action. In short, a metaphysico-logical
postulate is already put forward here — and it is not
merely an ascertainment of fact. ... On Descartes'
lines nothing absolutely certain is attained, but
only the fact of a very powerful faith.

If the proposition be reduced to "Something is
thought, therefore there are thoughts," the result
is mere tautology; and precisely the one factor
which is in question, the " reality of thought," is
not touched upon, — so that, in this form, the
11 apparitional character" of thought cannot be
denied. What Descartes wanted to prove was,
that thought not only had apparent reality, but
absolute reality.

485.

c

The concept substance is an outcome of the
concept subject', and not conversely! If we sur-
render the concept soul, "the subject,' the very
conditions for the concept " substance " are lack-
ing. Degrees of Being are obtained, but Being is
lost.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. J 5

Criticism of "reality" : what does a "plus or
minus of reality " lead to, the gradation of Being
in which we believe ?

The degree of our feeling of life and power
(the logic and relationship of past life) presents
us with the measure of " Being," " reality," " non-
appearance."

Subject : this is the term we apply to our belief
in an entity underlying all the different moments
of the most intense sensations of reality : we regard
this belief as the effect of a cause, — and we believe
in our belief to such an extent that, on its account
alone, we imagine " truth," " reality," " substantial-
ity."— " Subject " is the fiction which would fain
make us believe that several similar states were the
effect of one substratum : but we it was who first
created the " similarity " of these states ; the similis-
ing and adjusting of them is the fact — not their
similarity (on the contrary, this ought rather to
be denied).

486.

One would have to know what Being is, in 1
order to be able to decide whether this or that ,
is real (for instance, " the facts of consciousness ") ; j
it would also be necessary to know what certainty \
and knowledge are, and so forth. — But, as we do I
not know these things, a criticism of the faculty of ;
knowledge is nonsensical : how is it possible for an
instrument to criticise itself, when it is itself that
exercises the critical faculty. It cannot even de- I
fine itself!

16 THE WILL TO POWER,

487.

Should not all philosophy ultimately disclose the
first principles on which the reasoning processes
depend ? — that is to say, our belief in the " ego "
as a substance, as the only reality according to
which, alone, we are able to ascribe reality to
things ? The oldest realism at length comes to
light, simultaneously with man's recognition of the
fact that his whole religious history is no more
than a history of soul-superstitions. Here there is
a barrier ; our very thinking, itself, involves that
belief (with its distinctions — substance, accident,
action, agent, etc.); to abandon it would mean
to cease from being able to think.

But that a belief, however useful it may be for
the preservation of a species, has nothing to do
with the truth, may be seen from the fact that we
must believe in time, space, and motion, without
feeling ourselves compelled to regard them as
absolute realities.

488.

The psychological origin of our belief in reason. —
The ideas " reality," " Being," are derived from our
subject-feeling.

" Subject," interpreted through ourselves so that
the ego may stand as substance, as the cause of
action, as the agent.

The metaphysico-logical postulates, the belief in
substance, accident, attribute, etc. etc., draws its
convincing character from our habit of regarding
all our actions as the result of our will : so that

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 1 7

the ego, as substance, does not vanish in the mul-
tiplicity of changes. — But there is no such thing as
will.

We have no categories which allow us to
separate a " world as thing-in-itself," from " a
world of appearance." All our categories of reasoit
have a sensual origin : they are deductions from
the empirical world. " The soul," " the ego" — the
history of these concepts shows that here, also, the
oldest distinction (" spiritus" " life ") obtains. . . .

If there is nothing material, then there can be
nothing immaterial. The concept no longer means
anything. '

No subject-" atoms." The sphere of a subject
increasing or diminishing unremittingly, the centre
of the system continually displacing itself ; in the
event of the system no longer being able to organ-
ise the appropriated mass, it divides into two. On
the other hand, it is able, without destroying it,
to transform a weaker subject into one of its own
functionaries, and, to a certain extent, to compose
a new entity with it. Not a " substance," but
rather something which in itself strives after
greater strength ; and which wishes to " preserve "
itself only indirectly (it wishes to surpass itself).

489.

Everything that reaches consciousness as an
" entity " is already enormously complicated : we
never have anything more than the semblance of
an entity.

The phenomenon of the body is the richer, more

VOL. 11. B

1 8 THE WILL TO POWER.

distinct, and more tangible phenomenon : it should
be methodically drawn to the front, and no mention
should be made of its ultimate significance.

490.

The assumption of a single subject is perhaps not
necessary; it may be equally permissible to assume
a plurality of subjects, whose interaction and
struggle lie at the bottom of our thought and our
consciousness in general. A sort of aristocracy of
" cells " in which the ruling power is vested ? Of
course an aristocracy of equals, who are accus-
tomed to ruling co-operatively, and understand how
to command ?

My hypotheses : The subject as a plurality.
Pain intellectual and dependent upon the

judgment " harmful," projected.
The effect always " unconscious " : the in-
ferred and imagined cause is projected,
it follows the event.
Pleasure is a form of pain.
The only kind of power that exists is of the
same nature as the power of will : a com-
manding of other subjects which thereupon
alter themselves,'
The unremitting transientness and volatility

of the subject. " Mortal soul."
Number as perspective form.

491.

The belief in the body is more fundamental
than the belief in the soul : the latter arose from

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 19

the unscientific observation of the agonies of the
body. (Something which leaves it. The belief
in the truth of dreams?)

492.

The body and physiology the starting-point :
why? — We obtain a correct image of the nature
of our subject-entity, that is to say, as a number
of regents at the head of a community (not as
" souls " or as " life-forces "), as also of the depend-
ence of these regents upon their subjects, and upon
the conditions of a hierarchy, and of the division
of labour, as the means ensuring the existence of
the part and the whole. We also obtain a correct
image of the way in which the living entities con-
tinually come into being and expire, and we see
how eternity cannot belong to the " subject " ; we '
realise that the struggle finds expression in obey-
ing as well as in commanding, and that a fluctuat-
ing definition of the limits of power is a factor of \
life. The comparative ignorance in which the ruler t
is kept, of the individual performances and even
disturbances taking place in the community, also
belong to the conditions under which government
may be carried on. In short, we obtain a valua-
tion even of want-of -knowledge , of seeing-things-
generally-as-a-whole, of simplification, of falsifica-
tion, and of perspective. What is most important,
however, is, that we regard the ruler and his sub-
jects as of the same kind, all feeling, willing,
thinking — and that wherever we see or suspect
movement in a body, we conclude that there is

I

20 THE WILL TO POWER.

cooperative-subjective and invisible life. Move-
ment as a symbol for the eye ; it denotes that
something has been felt, willed, thought.

The danger of directly questioning the subject £##-
cerning the subject, and all spiritual self-reflection,
consists in this, that it might be a necessary con-
dition of its activity to interpret itself erroneously.
That is why we appeal to the body and lay the
evidence of sharpened senses aside : or we try and
see whether the subjects themselves cannot enter
into communication with us.

(d) Biology of the Instinct of Knowledge.
Perspectivity.

493-

Truth is that kind of error without which a
certain species of living being cannot exist. The
value for Life is ultimately decisive.

494.

It is unlikely that our " knowledge " extends
farther than is exactly necessary for our self-pres-
ervation. Morphology shows us how the senses
and the nerves as well as the brain evolve in pro-
portion as the difficulties of acquiring sustenance
increase.

495.
If the morality of " Thou shalt not lie " be re-
futed, the sense for truth will then have to justify

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 21

itself before another tribunal — as a means to the
preservation of man, as Will to Poiver.

Likewise our love of the beautiful : it is also the
creative will. Both senses stand side by side ; the \
sense of truth is the means wherewith the power
is appropriated to adjust things according to one's «
taste. The love of adjusting and reforming — af
primeval love ! We can only take cognisance of a !
world which we ourselves have made.

496.

Concerning the multifariousness of knowledge.
The tracing of its relation to many other things (or
the relation of kind) — how should " knowledge " be
of another ? The way to know and to investigate
is in itself among the conditions of life ; that is why
the conclusion that there could be no other kind
of intellect (for ourselves) than the kind which
serves the purpose of our preservation is an ex-
cessively hasty one : this actual condition may
be only an accidental, not in the least an essential
one.

Our apparatus for acquiring knowledge is not
adjusted for " knowledge."

y 497.

The most strongly credited a priori " truths " '
^fojny mind- ™ere assumptions fiendinr further j
investigation J f°r instance, the law of causation is

22 THE WILL TO POWER.

a belief so thoroughly acquired by practice and so
completely assimilated, that to disbelieve in it
would mean the ruin of our kind. But is it
therefore true? What an extraordinary conclu-
sion ! As if truth were proved by the mere fact
that man survives !

498.

To what extent is our intellect also a result of
the conditions of life ? — We should not have it did
we not need to have it, and we should not have
it as we have it, if we did not need it as we need
it — that is to say, if we could live otherwise.

499.

" Thinking " in a primitive (inorganic) state is to
tier severe in forms, as in the case of the crystal. — In
^r^thought, the essential factor is the harmonising
of the new material with the old schemes ( = Pro-
crustes' bed), the assimilation of the unfamiliar.

500.

The perception of the senses projected out-
wards : " inwards " and " outwards " — does the
body command here?

The same equalising and ordering power which
/ rules in the idioplasma, also rules in the incorpora-
tion of the outer world : our sensual perceptions
are already the result of this process of adaptation

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 23

and harmonisation in regard to all the past in us ;
they do not follow directly upon the " impression."

501.

All thought, judgment, perception, regarded as
an act of comparing? has as a first condition
the act of equalising, and earlier still the act of
"making equal." The process of making equal
is the same as the assimilation by the amoeba of
the nutritive matter it appropriates.

" Memory " late, in so far as the equalising in-
stinct appears to have been subdued : the difference
is preserved. Memory — a process of classification
and collocation ; active — who ?

502.

In regard to the memory, we must unlearn a great
deal : here we meet with the greatest temptation
to assume the existence of a " soul," which, irre-
spective of time, reproduces and recognises again
and again, etc. What I have experienced, however,
continues to live " in the memory " ; I have noth-
ing to do with it when memory " comes," my will
is inactive in regard to it, as in the case of the
coming and going of a thought. Something
happens, of which I become conscious: now some-
thing similar comes — who has called it forth?
Who has awakened it ?

* The German word vergleichen, meaning " to compare,'
contains the root "equal" {gleich) which cannot be rendered
in English. — Tr.

24 THE WILL TO POWER.

503.

The whole apparatus of knowledge is an ab-
stracting and simplifying apparatus — not directed
at knowledge, but at the appropriation of things :
" end " and " means " are as remote from the
essence of this apparatus as " concepts " are. By
the " end " and the " means " a process is appro-
priated ( — a process is invented which may be
grasped), but by " concepts " one appropriates the
11 things " which constitute the process.

504.

Consciousness begins outwardly as co-ordina-
tion and knowledge of impressions, — at first it is
at the point which is remotest from the biological
centre of the individual ; but it is a process which
deepens and which tends to become more and more
an inner function, continually approaching nearer
to the centre.

505.

Our perceptions, as we understand them — that
is to say, the sum of all those perceptions the con-
sciousness whereof was useful and essential to us
and to the whole organic processes which preceded
us : therefore they do not include all perceptions
(for instance, not the electrical ones) ; — that is to
say, we have senses only for a definite selection of
perceptions — such perceptions as concern us with a
( view to our self-preservation. Consciousness extends

/so far only as it is useful. There can be no doubt
that all our sense-perceptions are entirely per-

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 2$

meated by valuations (useful or harmful — conse-

*"' **•■■- „-.••--

cjiiently, pleasant or painful). tLvery particulars

colour, besides being a colour, expresses a value to
us (although we seldom admit it, or do so only
after it has affected us exclusively for a long time,
as in the case of convicts in gaol or lunatics). In-
sects likewise react in different ways to different
colours : some like this shade, the others that.
Ants are a case in point.

506.

In the beginning images — how images originate
in the mind must be explained. Then words, ap-?.
plied to images. Finally concepts, possible only,
when there are words — the assembling of several!
pictures into a whole which is not for the eye but?
for the ear (word). The small amount of emotion *
which the " word " generates, — that is, then, which
the view of the similar pictures generates, for which
one word is used, — this simple emotion is the
common factor, the basis of a concept. That weak
feelings should all be regarded as alike, as the same,
is the fundamental fact. There is therefore a con-
fusion of two very intimately associated feelings in
the ascertainment of these feelings ; — but who is it
that ascertains ? Faith is the very first step in
every sensual impression : a sort of yea-saying is
the first intellectual activity ! A " holding-a-thing-
to-be-true " is the beginning. It were our business,
therefore, to explain how the " holding-of-a-thing-
to-be-true " arose ! What sensation lies beneath
the comment " true " ?

26

THE WILL TO POWER.

507.

\

The valuation, " I believe that this and thaLis

SO,'* IS tfle'"fessence ffln"Jj;/i<-" " m all "valiiaHnng

the conditions of preservation and of growth find
expression. All our organs and senses of know-
ledge have been developed only in view of the con-
ditions of preservation and growth. The trust in
reason and its categories, the trust in dialectics, and
also the valuation of logic, prove only that ex-
perience has taught the usefulness of these things
to life : not their " truth."

The pre-requisites of all living things and of
their lives is : that there should be a large amount
of faith, that it should be possible to pass definite
judgments on things, and that there should be no
doubt at all concerning all essential values. Thus
it is necessary that something should be assumed
to be true, not that it is true.

" The real world and the world of appearance " —
I trace this contrast to the relation of values. We
have posited our conditions of existence as the attri-
butes of being in general. Owing to the fact that,
in order to prosper, we must be stable in our belief,
we developed the idea that the real world was
neither a changing nor an evolving one, but a
world of being.

(e) The Origin of Reason and Logic.

508.

Originally there was chaos among our ideas.
Those ideas which were able to stand side by side

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

27

, true ; a

ts origin

it it has

might

• the

:ght

remained over, the greater number perished — and
are still perishing.

509.

The kingdom of desires out of which I
the gregarious instinct in the backgrour
assumption of similar facts is the first c<
for " similar souls." For the purpose of
understanding and government.

510.

Concerning the origin of logic. The fundament?
proneness to equalise things and to see them equal;
gets to be modified, and kept within bounds, by the
consideration of what is useful or harmful — in fact,
by considerations of success : it then becomes
adapted in suchwise as to be gratified in a milder
way, without at the same time denying life or en-
dangering it. This whole process corresponds
entirely with that external and mechanical process
(which is its symbol) by which the protoplasm con-
tinually assimilates, makes equal to itself, what it
appropriates, and arranges it according to its own
forms and requirements.

Likeness and Similarity.

1. The coarser the organ the more apparent
likenesses it sees ;

2. The mind will have likeness — that is to say,
the identification of one sensual impression with
others already experienced : just as the body
assimilates inorganic matter.

28 THE WILL TO POWER.

For the understanding of Logic. —
The will which tends to see likeness everywhere is
the will to fower — the belief that something is so
so' ls~l1 essence of a judgment), is the result of a
the condir WOuld fain have it as similar as possible,
expressi'

ledge h SI2

dition #

p.^jgic is bound up with the proviso; Sf&pff*<\
ais, identical cases exisL As a matter of fact, before
pet can think and conclude in a logical fashion, this
\ .pndition must first be assumed. That is to say, the
Will to logical truth cannot be consummated before
a fundamental falsification of all phenomena has
been assumed. From which it follows that an in-
stinct rules here, which is capable of employing both
means: first, falsification ; and secondly, thecarrying
out of its own point of view : logic does not spring
from a will to truth.

513.

The inventive force which devised the categories,
worked in the service of our need of security, of
quick intelligibility, in the form of signs, sounds, and
abbreviations. — " Substance," " subject," " object,"
" Being," " Becoming," are not matters of meta-
physical truth. It was the powerful who made the
names of things into law, and, among the powerful,
it was the greatest artists in abstraction who created
the categories.

II

514.

A moral — that is to say, a method of living which
long experience and experiment have tested and

Tin-: wii.i

POWER IN SCIENCE.

29

proved efficient, at last enters consciousness as a law,
as dominant . . . And then the whole group of'
related values and conditions become part of it:
it becomes venerable, unassailable, holy, true ; a
necessary part of its evolution is that its origin
should be forgotten. . . . That is a sign that it has
become master. Exactly the same thing might
have happened with the categories of reason : the
latter, after much groping and many trials, might
have proved true through relative usefulness. . .
A stage was reached when they were grasped as a
whole, and when they appealed to consciousness M
a whole, — when belief in them was commanded^ —
that is to say, when they acted as if they com-
manded . . . From that time forward they passed
as a priori, as beyond experience, as irrefutable.
And, possibly, they may have been the expression
of no more than a certain practicality answering
the ends of a race and a species, — their usefulness
alone is their u truth."

515.

The object is, not " to know," but to schematise.
— to impose as much regularity and form upo
chaos, as our practical needs require.

In the formation of reason, logic, and the
categories, it was a need in us that was the
determining power : not the need " to know," but
to classify, to schematise, for the purpose of
intelligibility and calculation. (The adjustment
ami interpretation of all similar and equal things, —
the same process, which every sensual impression

»

30

THE WILL TO TOWER.

undergoes, is the development of reason !) No
hfXiAS^r \ pre-existing "idea" had anything to do with it:
but utility, which teaches us that things can be
reckoned with and managed, only when we view
them roughly as equal. . . . Finality in reason is
an effect, not a cause : Life degenerates with
every other form of reason, although constant at-
tempts are being made to attain to those other
forms of reason ; — for Life would then become
too obscure, — too unequal.

The categories are " truths " only in the sense
that they are the conditions_of our existence, just
as Euclid's Space is a conditional "truth."
(Between ourselves, as no one will maintain that
men are absolutely necessary, reason, as well as
Euclid's Space, are seen to be but an idiosyncrasy
of one particular species of animals, one idiosyn-
crasy alone among many others. . . .)

The subjective constraint which prevents one
from contradicting here, is a biological constraint :
the instinct which makes us see the utility of
concluding as we do conclude, is in our blood, we
are almost this instinct . . . But what simplicity
it is to attempt to derive from this fact that we
possess an absolute truth ! . . . The inability to
contradict anything is a proof of impotence but
not of "truth."

516.

We are not able to affirm and to deny one and
the same thing : that is a principle of subjective
experience — which is not in the least " necessary,"
but only a sign of inability.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 3 1

If, according to Aristotle, the principium contra-
dictionis is the most certain of all principles ; if it
is the most ultimate of all, and the basis of every
demonstration ; if the principle of every other
axiom lie within it : then one should analyse
it all the more severely, in order to discover how
many assumptions already lie at its root. It either
assumes something concerning reality and Being,
as if these had become known in some other
sphere — that is to say, as if it were impossible to
ascribe the opposite attributes to it ; or the proposi-
tion means: that the opposites should not be
ascribed to it. In that case, logic would be an
imperative, not directed at the knowledge of truth,
but at the adjusting and fixing of a world which
must seem true to us.

In short, the question is a debatable one : are <
the axioms of logic adequate to reality, or are they |
measures and means by which alone we can. create j
realities, or the concept " reality " ? . . . In order i
to affirm the first alternative, however, one would,
as we have seen, require a previous knowledge of
Being ; which is certainly not the case. The pro
position therefore contains no criterion of truth,
but an imperative concerning that which should
pass as true.

Supposing there were no such thing as A
identical with itself, as every logical (and
mathematical) proposition presupposes, and that
A is in itself an appearance, then logic would
have a mere world of appearance as its first
condition. As a matter of fact, we believe in that
proposition, under the influence of an endless

32 THE WILL TO POWER.

empiricism which seems to confirm it every
minute. The " thing " — that is the real sub-
stratum of A ; our belief in things is the first
condition of our faith in logic. The A in logic
is, like the atom, a reconstruction of the
" thing." ... By not understanding this, and by
making logic into a criterion of real being, we are
already on the road to the classification of all those
hypostases : substance, attribute, object, subject,
action, etc., as realities — that is to say, the
conception of a metaphysical world or a " real
world " ( — this is, however, once more the world of
appearance . . .).

The primitive acts of thought, affirmation, and
negation, the holding of a thing for true, and the
holding of a thing for not true, — in so far as they
do not only presuppose a mere habit, but the very
right to postulate truth or untruth at all, — are
already dominated by a belief, that there is such a
thing as knowledge for us, and that judgments can
really hit the truth : in short, logic never doubts
that it is able to pronounce something concerning
truth in itself ( — that is to say, that to the thing
which is in itself true, no opposite attributes can
be ascribed).

In this belief there reigns the sensual and coarse
prejudice that our sensations teach us truths
concerning things, — that I cannot at the same
moment of time say of one and the same thing
that it is hard and soft. (The instinctive proof,
" I cannot have two opposite sensations at once,"
is quite coarse and false?)

That all contradiction in concepts should be

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 33

forbidden, is the result of a belief, that we are able
to form concepts, that a concept not only character-
ises but also holds the essence of a thing. ... As a
matter of fact, logic (like geometry and arithmetic)
only holds good of assumed existences which we have
created. Logic is the attempt on our part to under-
stand the actual world according to a scheme 4
Being devised by ourselves ; or, more exactly ', it is ou
attempt at making the actual world more calculabh
and more susceptible to formulation, for our own
purposes. . . .

517.

In order to be able to think and to draw
conclusions, it is necessary to acknozvledge that
which exists : logic only deals with formulae for
things which are constant. That is why this
acknowledgment would not in the least prove
reality : " that which is " is part of our optics.
The " ego " regarded as Being (not affected by
either Becoming or evolution).

The assumed world of subject, substance,
" reason," etc., is necessary : an adjusting, simplify-
ing, falsifying, artificially-separating power resides
in us. " Truth " is the will to be master over the

manifold sensations that reach consciousness ; it is

' 1

the will to classify phenomena according to definite
categories. In this way we start out with a belief
in the " true nature " of things (we regard
phenomena as real).

The character of the world in the process of
Becoming is not susceptible of formulation ; it is
" false " and " contradicts itself." Knowledge and

VOL. II. C

34 THE WILL TO POWER.

the process of evolution exclude each other.
Consequently \ knowledge must be something else :
it must be preceded by a will to make things
knowable, a kind of Becoming in itself must create
the illusion of Being.

518.

If our " ego " is the only form of Being, accord -
j ing to which we make and understand all Being :
I very good ! In that case it were very proper
to doubt whether an illusion of perspective were
not active here — the apparent unity which every-
thing assumes in our eyes on the horizon-line.
Appealing to the body for our guidance, we are
confronted by such appalling manifoldness, that
for the sake of method it is allowable to use
that phenomenon which is richer and more easily
studied as a clue to the understanding of the
poorer phenomenon.
j Finally : admitting that all is Becoming, know-
) ledge is only possible when based on a belief in Being.

519.

If there is " only one form of Being, the ego,"
and all other forms of Being are made in its own
image, — if, in short, the belief in the " ego,"
together with the belief in logic, stands and falls
with the metaphysical truth of the categories
of reason : if, in addition, the " ego " is shown to
j be something that is evolving: then

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

35

520.

The continual transitions that occur, forbid out-
speaking of the "individual," etc.; the "number"
of beings itself fluctuates. We should know no-
thing of time or of movement, if, in a rough way,
we did not believe we saw things " standing still '*'
behind or in front of things moving. We should
also know just as little about cause and effect, and
without the erroneous idea of " empty space " we
should never have arrived at the concept of space
at all. The principle of identity is based on the
" fact of appearance " that there are some things
alike. Strictly speaking, it would not be possible
to " understand " and " know " an evolving world ;
something which is called " knowledge " exists
only in so far as the " understanding " and
" knowing " intellect already finds an adjusted
and rough world to hand, fashioned out of a host
of mere appearances, but become fixed to the !
extent in which this kind of appearance has helped
to preserve life ; only to this extent is " knowledge "
possible — that is to say, as a measuring of earlier
and more recent errors by one another.

H*jc

521.

Concerning "logical appearance" — The concept
" individual * and the concept " species " are
equally false and only apparent. " Species " only
expresses the fact that an abundance of similar
creatures come forth at the same time, and that
the speed of their further growth and of their

36 THE WILL TO POWER.

further transformation has been made almost
imperceptible for a long time : so that the
actual and trivial changes and increase of growth
are of no account at all ( — a stage of evolution in
which the process of evolving is not visible, so
that, not only does a state of equilibrium seem
to have been reached, but the road is also made
clear for the error of supposing that an actual goal
has been reached — and that evolution had a
goal . . .).

The form seems to be something enduring, and
therefore valuable ; but the form was invented
merely by ourselves ; and however often " the
same form is attained," it does not signify that
it is the same form, — because something new always
appears ; and we alone, who compare, reckon the
new with the old, in so far as it resembles the
latter, and embody the two in the unity of " form."
As if a type had to be reached and were actually
intended by the formative processes.

Form, species, law, idea, purpose — the same fault
is made in respect of all these concepts, namely,
that of giving a false realism to a piece of fiction :
as if all phenomena were infused with some sort of
obedient spirit — an artificial distinction is here
made between that which acts and that which
guides action (but both these things are only
fixed in order to agree with our metaphysico-logical
dogma : they are not " facts ").

We should not interpret this constraint in our-
selves, to imagine concepts, species, forms, purposes,
and laws ("a world of identical cases ") as if we were
in a position to construct a real world \ but as

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 37

a constraint to adjust a world by means of which
our existence will be ensured : we thereby create
a world which is determinable, simplified, com-
prehensible, etc., for us.

The very same constraint is active in the
functions of the senses which support the reason — I
by means of simplification, coarsening, accentua-
tion, and interpretation ; whereon all " recognition,"
all the ability of making one's self intelligible
rests. Our needs have made our senses so precise,
that the " same world of appearance " always
returns, and has thus acquired the semblance of
reality.

Our subjective constraint to have faith in logic,
is expressive only of the fact that long before
logic itself became conscious in us, we did nothing
save introduce its postulates into the nature of
things : now we find ourselves in their presence, —
we can no longer help it, — and now we would fain
believe that this constraint is a guarantee of " truth."
We it was who created the " thing," the " same
thing," the subject, the attribute, the action, the ob-
ject,the substance,and the form, after we had carried
the process of equalising, coarsening, and simplify-
ing as far as possible. The world seems logical
to us, because we have already made it logical.

522.

Fundamental solution. — We believe in reason :
this is, however, the philosophy of colourless
concepts. Language is built upon the most naif
prejudices.

I

38 THE WILL TO POWER.

Now we read discord and problems into things,
because we are able to think only in the form of
language — we also believe in the " eternal truth "
of " wisdom " (for instance, subject, attribute, etc.).

We cease from thinking if we do not wish to
think under the control of language ; the most we
can do is to attain to an attitude of doubt con-
cerning the question whether the boundary here
really is a boundary.

Rational thought is a process of interpreting
according to a scheme which we cannot reject.

{/) Consciousness.

523.

There is no greater error than that of making
psychical and physical phenomena the two faces,
the two manifestations of the same substance.
By this means nothing is explained : the concept
"substance" is utterly useless as a means of explana-
tion. Consciousness may be regarded as secondary,
almost an indifferent and superfluous thing, prob-
ably destined to disappear and to be superseded
by perfect automatism —

When we observe mental phenomena we may
be likened to the deaf and dumb who divine the
spoken word, which they do not hear, from the
I movements of the speaker's lips. From the
appearance of the inner mind we draw conclusions
concerning invisible and other phenomena, which
we could ascertain if our powers of observation
were adequate for the purpose.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 39

For this inner world we have no finer organs,
and that is why a complexity which is thousandfold
reaches our consciousness as a simple entity, and
we invent a process of causation in it, despite the
fact that we can perceive no cause either of the
movement or of the change— the sequence of
thoughts and feelings is nothing more than their
becoming visible to consciousness. That this
sequence has anything to do with a chain of causes
is not worthy of belief: consciousness never com-
municates an example of cause and effect to us.

524.

%

The part " consciousness " plays. — It is essential j
that one should not mistake the part that " con-
sciousness " plays : it is our relation to the outer
world ; it was the outer worldTnat developed it. I
On the*"other hand, the direction — that is to say,
the care and cautiousness which is concerned with
the inter-relation of the bodily functions, does
not enter into our consciousness any more than
does the storing activity of the intellect : that there
is a superior controlling force at work in these
things cannot be doubted — a sort of directing com-
mittee, in which the various leading desires make
their votes and their power felt. " Pleasure " and
" pain " are indications which reach us from this
sphere : as are also acts of will and ideas.

In short: That which becomes conscious has
causal relations which are completely and absolutely
concealed from our knowledge — the sequence of
thoughts, feelings, and ideas, in consciousness, does

40 THE WILL TO POWER.

not signify that the order in which they come is
a causal order : it is so apparently, however, in the
highest degree. We have based the whole of our
notion of intellect, reason, logic, etc., upon this
apparent truth (all these things do not exist : they
are imaginary syntheses and entities), and we then
projected the latter into and behind all things !

As a rule consciousness itself is understood to be
the general sensorium and highest ruling centre ;
albeit, it is only a means of communication : it was
developed by intercourse, and with a view to the in-
terests of intercourse. . . . " Intercourse " is under-
stood, here, as " relation," and is intended to cover
the action of the outer world upon us and our
necessary response to it, as also our actual influence
upon the outer world. It is not the conducting
force, but an organ of the latter.

525.

My principle, compressed into a formula which
savours of antiquity, of Christianity, Scholasticism,
and other kinds of musk : in the concept, " God is
spirit" God as perfection is denied. . . .

526.

Wherever people have observed a certain unity
in the grouping of things, spirit has always been
regarded as the cause of this co-ordination : an
assumption for which reasons are entirely lack-
ing. Why should the idea of a complex fact be
one of the conditions of that fact ? Or why should

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 4 1

the notion of a complex fact have to precede it as
its cause ?

We must be on our guard against explaining
finality by the spirit : there is absolutely no
reason whatever for ascribing to spirit the peculiar
power of organising and systematising. The
domain of the nervous system is much more ex-
tensive : the realm of consciousness is superadded.
In the collective process of adaptation and systema-
tising, consciousness plays no part at all.

527.

Physiologists, like philosophers, believe that
consciousness increases in value in proportion as
it gains in clearness : the most lucid consciousness
and the most logical and impassive thought are of
the first order. Meanwhile — according to what
standard is this value determined ? — In regard to
the discharge of will-power the most superficial and
most simple thought is the most useful — it might
therefore, etc. etc. (because it leaves few motives
over).

Precision in action is opposed to the far-sighted
and often uncertain judgments of caution : the
latter is led by the deeper instinct

528.

The chief error of psychologists : they regard the
indistinct idea as of a lower kind than the distinct
but that which keeps at a distance from our con
sciousness and which is therefore obscure, may on

//

42 THE WILL TO POWER.

that very account be quite clear in itself. The fact
that a thing becomes obscure is a question of the
perspective of consciousness

529.

The_great misapprehensions : —

(1) The senseless over estimation of consciousness,
its elevation to the dignity of an entity : " a spirit,"
" a soul," something that feels, thinks, and wills ;

(2) The spirit regarded as a cause, especially
where finality, system, and co-ordination appear ;

(3) Consciousness classed as the highest form
attainable, as the most superior kind of being, as
"God";

(4) Will introduced wherever effects are observed;

(5) The "real world" regarded as the spiritual
world, accessible by means of the facts of con-
sciousness ;

(6) Absolute knowledge regarded as the faculty
of consciousness, wherever knowledge exists at all.

CaxLSiguencesj —

Every step forward consists of a step forward
in consciousness ; every step backwards is a step
into unconsciousness (unconsciousness was regarded
as a falling- back upon the passions and senses —
as a state of animalism. . . .).

Man approaches reality and " real being "
through dialectics : man departs from them by
means of instincts, senses, and automatism. . . .

To convert man into a spirit, would mean to
make a god of him : spirit, will, goodness — all
one.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 43

All goodness must take its root in spirituality,
must be a fact of consciousness. j

Every step made towards something better can
be only a step forward in consciousness.

I

[g) Judgment. True — False.

53o.

Kant's theological bias, his unconscious dogmat-
ism,his moral outlook, ruled,guided,and directed him.

The irpwrov yfrevSos : how is the fact knowledge
possible ? Is knowledge a fact at all ? What is
knowledge ? If we do not know what knowledge
is, we cannot possibly reply to the question, " Is
there such a thing as knowledge?" — Very fine\
But if I do not already " know " whether there is, or
can be, such a thing as knowledge, I cannot reason-
ably ask the question, " What is knowledge ?" Kant
believes in the fact of knowledge : what he requires
is a piece of naivete'', the knowledge of knowledge !

" Knowledge is judgment." But judgment is
a belief that something is this or that ! And
not knowledge ! " All knowledge consists in
synthetic judgments " which have the character of
being universally true (the fact is so in all cases, and
does not change), and which have the character of
being necessary (the reverse of the proposition
cannot be imagined to exist).

The validity of a belief in knowledge is always
taken for granted ; as is also the validity of the
feelings which conscience dictates. Here moral
ontology is the ruling bias.

44 THE WILL TO POWER.

The conclusion, therefore, is : (i) there are pro-
positions which we believe to be universally true
and necessary.

(2) This character of universal truth and of
necessity cannot spring from experience.

(3) Consequently it must base itself upon no
experience at all, but upon something else ; it must
be derived from another source of knowledge !

(Kant concludes (1) that there are some pro-
positions which hold good only on one condition ;
(2) this condition is that they do not spring from
experience, but from pure reason.)

Thus, the question is, whence do we derive our
reasons for believing in the truth of such proposi-
tions ? No, whence does our belief get its cause ?
But the origin of a belief, of a strong conviction,
is a psychological problem : and very limited and
narrow experience frequently brings about such a
belief! It already presupposes that there are not
only " data a posteriori " but also " data a priori " —
that is to say, " previous to experience." Neces-
sary and universal truth cannot be given by experi-
ence : it is therefore quite clear that it has come to
us without experience at all ?

There is no such thing as an isolated judgment !

An isolated judgment is never " true," it is never
knowledge ; only in connection with, and when
related to, many other judgments, is a guarantee
of its truth forthcoming.

What is the difference between true and false
belief? What is knowledge? He "knows" it,
that is heavenly !
J Necessary and universal truth cannot be given

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 45

by experience ! It is therefore independent of ex-
perience, of all experience ! The view which comes
quite a priori, and therefore independent of all ex-
perience, merely out of reason, is " pure knowledge " ! j 1

" The principles of logic, the principle of identity
and of contradiction, are examples of pure know-
ledge, because they precede all experience." — But • j
these principles are not cognitions, but regulative j /
articles of faith.

In order to establish the a priori character (the
pure rationality) of mathematical axioms, space \
must be conceived as a form of pure reason. »

Hume had declared that there were no a priori
synthetic judgments. Kant says there are — the
mathematical ones ! And if there are such judg-
ments, there may also be such things as metaphysics
and a knowledge of things by means of pure reason !

Mathematics is possible under conditions which
are not allowed to metaphysics. All human know-
ledge is either experience or mathematics.

A judgment is synthetic — that is to say, it co-
ordinates various ideas. It is a priori — that is to
say, this co-ordination is universally true and
necessary, and is arrived at, not by sensual experi-
ence, but by pure reason.

If there are such things as a priori judgments, then
reason must be able to co-ordinate : co-ordination
is a form. Reason must possess a formative faculty .

531.

Judging is our oldest faith ; it is our habit of
believing this to be true or false, of asserting or

46 THE WILL TO POWER.

denying, our certainty that something is thus and
not otherwise, our belief that we really " know * —
what is believed to be true in all judgments ?

What are attributes} — We did not regard
changes in ourselves merely as such, but as " things
in themselves," which are strange to us, and which
we only " perceive" ; and we did not class them as
phenomena, but as Being, as " attributes " ; and in
addition we invented a creature to which they attach
themselves — that is to say, we made the effect the
worki?ig cause, and the latter we made Being. But
even in this plain statement, the concept " effect "
is arbitrary : for in regard to those changes which
occur in us, and of which we are convinced we
ourselves are not the cause, we still argue that
they must be effects : and this is in accordance
with the belief that " every change must have its
author " ; — but this belief in itself is already
mythology ; for it separates the working cause from
the cause in work. When I say the " lightning
flashes," I set the flash down, once as an action and
a second time as a subject acting; and thus a
thing is fancifully affixed to a phenomenon, which
is not one with it, but which is stable, which is, and
does not " come." — To make the phenomenon the
working cause, and to make the effect into a thing
— into Being : this is the double error, or interpreta-
tion, of which we are guilty.

532.

I The Judgment — that is the faith: "This and
I this is so." In every judgment, therefore, there lies

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

47

the admission that an " identical case " has been
met with : it thus takes some sort of comparison
for granted, with the help of the memory. Judg-
ment does not create the idea tnat an identical case
seems to be there. It believes rather that it actu-
ally perceives such a case ; it works on the
hypothesis that there are such things as identical
cases. But what is that much older function called,
which must have been active much earlier, and
which in itself equalises unequal cases and makes
them alike ? What is that second function called,
which with this first one as a basis, etc. etc. " That
which provokes the same sensations as another
thing is equal to that other thing " : but what is
that called which makes sensations equal, which
regards them as equal ? — There could be no judg-
ments if a sort of equalising process were not active
within all sensations : memory is only possible by
means of the underscoring of all that has already
been experienced and learned. Before a judgment
can be formed, the process of assimilation must
already have been completed ': thus, even here, an '
intellectual activity is to be observed which does not
enter consciousness in at all the same way as the
pain which accompanies a wound. Probably the1
psychic phenomena correspond to all the organic
functions — that is to say, they consist of assimila-
tion, rejection, growth, etc.

The essential thing is to start out from the body
and to use it as the general clue. It is by far the
richer phenomenon, and allows of much more accur-
ate observation. The belief in the body is much
more soundly established than the belief in spirit.

w

D

48 THE WILL TO POWER.

* However strongly a thing may be believed, the
degree of belief is no criterion of its truth." But
what is truth ? Perhaps it is a form of faith, which
has become a condition of existence? Then
strength would certainly be a criterion ; for in-
stance, in regard to causality.

533-

Logical accuracy, transparency, considered as
the criterion of truth (" otnne Mud verum est, quod
dare et distincte percipitur? — Descartes) : by this
means the mechanical hypothesis of the world
becomes desirable and credible.

But this is gross confusion : like simplex sigillum
i veri. Whence comes the knowledge that the real
\ nature of things stands in this relation to our
* intellect ? Could it not be otherwise ? Could it
I 1 not be this, that the hypothesis which gives the
intellect the greatest feeling of power and security,
/ is preferred, valued, and marked as true} — The
intellect sets its freest and strongest faculty and
ability as the criterion of what is most valuable,
consequentl)' of what is true. . . .
v " True " — from the standpoint of sentiment — is
that which most provokes senti-
ment (" I ") ;
from the standpoint of thought — is
that which gives thought the
greatest sensation of strength ;
from the standpoint of touch, sight,
and hearing — is that which calls
forth the greatest resistance.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 51

Thus it is the highest degrees of activity whic.
awaken belief in regard to the object, in regard to {
its " reality." The sensations of strength, struggle, |
and resistance convince the subject that there is
something which is being resisted.

5 34-

The criterion of truth lies in the enhancement of
the feeling of power.

535.

According to my way of thinking, " truth " does
not necessarily mean the opposite of error, but, in
the most fundamental cases, merely the relation of
different errors to each other: thus one error
might be older, deeper than another, perhaps
altogether ineradicable, one without which organic
creatures like ourselves could not exist ; whereas
other errors might not tyrannise over us to that
extent as conditions of existence, but when
measured according to the standard of those other
" tyrants," could even be laid aside and " refuted."

Why should an irrefutable assumption neces-
sarily be " true " ? This question may exasperate
the logicians who limit things according to the
limitations they find in themselves : but I have
long since declared war with this logician's
optimism.

536.

Everything simple is simply imaginary, but not
" true." That which is real and true is, however,
neither a unity nor reducible to a unity.

VOL. 11. D

i

48 THE WILL TO POWER.

537-

What is truth ? — Inertia ; that hypothesis which
brings satisfaction, the smallest expense of intel-
lectual strength, etc.
\

538.

First proposition. The easier way of thinking
I always triumphs over the more difficult way ; —
dogmatically : simplex sigillum veri. — Dico : to sup-
pose that clearness is any proof of truth, is absolute
childishness. . . .

Second proposition. The teaching of Being, of
things, and of all those constant entities, is a hun-
dred times more easy than the teaching of Becoming
and of evolution. . . .

Third proposition. Logic was intended to be a
method of facilitating thought: a means of expres-
sion,— not truth. . . . Later on it got to act like
truth. . . .

539-

Parmenides said : " One can form no concept of
the non-existent " ; — we are at the other extreme,
and say, " That of which a concept can be formed,
is certainly fictional."

540.

There are many kinds of eyes. Even the Sphinx
has eyes — therefore there must be many kinds of
I " truths," and consequently there can be no truth.

THE WILL TO TOWER IN SCIENCE. 5 1

541.

Inscriptions over the porch of a
modern lunatic asylum.

"That which is necessarily true in thought must
be necessarily true in morality." — Herbert
Spencer.

" The ultimate test of the truth of a proposition
is the inconceivableness of its negation." — Herbert
Spencer.

542.

If the character of existence were false, — and
this would be possible, — what would truth then be,
all our truth? . . . An unprincipled falsification
of the false ? A higher degree of falseness ? . . .

543-

In a world which was essentially false, truthful-
ness would be an anti-natural tendency : its only
purpose would be to provide a means of attaining
to a higher degree of falsity. For a world of
truth and Being to be simulated, the truthful one
would first have to be created (it being understood
that he must believe himself to be " truthful ").

Simple, transparent, not in contradiction with
himself, lasting, remaining always the same to him-
self, free from faults, sudden changes, dissimulation,
and form : such a man conceives a world of Being
as " God" in His own image.

In order that truthfulness may be possible, the

0

52 THE WILL TO POWER.

whole sphere in which man moves must be very
tidy, small, and respectable : the advantage in every
respect must be with the truthful one. — Lies, tricks,
dissimulations, must cause astonishment.

544-

" Dissimulation " increases in accordance with
the rising order of rank among organic beings.
In the inorganic world it seems to be entirely
absent. — There power opposes power quite roughly
— ruse begins in the organic world ; plants are
already masters of it. The greatest men, such as
Caesar and Napoleon (see Stendhal's remark con-
cerning him),* as also the higher races (the Italians),
the Greeks (Odysseus) ; the most supreme cunning,
belongs to the very essence of the elevation of man.
. . . The problem of the actor. My Dionysian
ideal. . . . The optics of all the organic functions,
of all the strongest vital instincts : the power which
will have error in all life ; error as the very first
principle of thought itself. Before " thought " is
possible, " fancy " must first have done its work ;
the picturing of identical cases, of the seemingness
of identity, is more primeval than the cognition of
identity.

* The reference to Stendhal here, seems to point to a
passage in his Life of Napoleon (Preface, p. xv) of which
Nietzsche had made a note in another place, and which
reads : " Une croyance presque instinctive chez moi c'est
que tout homme puissant ment quand il parle et a plus forte
raison quand il dcrit." '

the will to power in science. 53

(//) Against Causality.

545-

I believe in absolute space as the basis of force,
and I believe the latter to be limited and formed.
Time, eternal. But space and time as things in
themselves do not exist. " Changes " are only
appearances (or mere processes of our senses to
us) ; if we set recurrence, however regular, between
them, nothing is proved beyond the fact that it
has always happened so. The feeling that post
hoc is propter hoc, is easily explained as the result
of a misunderstanding ; it is comprehensible. But
appearances cannot be " causes " !

546.

The interpretation of a phenomenon, either as an
action or as the endurance of an action (that is
to say, every action involves the suffering of it),
amounts to this : every change, every differentia-
tion, presupposes the existence of an agent and
somebody acted upon, who is " altered."

547.

Psychological history of the concept "subject"
The body, the thing, the " whole," which is visual-
ised by the eye, awakens the thought of distin-
guishing between an action and an agent; the
idea that the agent is the cause of the action, after
having been repeatedly refined, at length left the
" subject " over.

f

fc

54 THE WILL TO POWER.

548

Our absurd habit of regarding a mere mnemonic
sign or abbreviated formula as an independent being,
and ultimately as a cause ; as, for instance, when we
say of lightning that " it flashes." Or even the
little word " I." A sort of double-sight in seeing
which makes sight a cause of seeing in itself : this
was the feat in the invention of the " subject " of
the " ego."

549-

" Subject," " object," " attribute " — these distinc-
tions have been made, and are now used like
schemes to cover all apparent facts. The false
fundamental observation is this, that I believe it
is I who does something, who suffers something,
who " has " something, who " has " a quality.

550.

In every judgment lies the whole faith in sub-
ject, attribute, or cause and effect (in the form of
an assumption that every effect is the result of
activity, and that all activity presupposes an agent) ;
and even this last belief is only an isolated case of
the first, so that faith remains as the most funda-
mental belief: there are such things as subjects,
everything that happens is related attributively to
a subject of some sort.

I notice something, and try to discover the
reason of it : originally this was, I look for an
intention behind it, and, above all, I look for one
who has an intention, for a subject, an agent :

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 55

every phenomenon is an action, — formerly inten-
tions were seen behind all phenomena, this is our
oldest habit. Has the animal also this habit ?
As a living organism, is it not also compelled to
interpret things through itself. The question
" why ? " is always a question concerning the
causa finalis, and the general " purpose " of things.
We have no sign of the "sense of the efficient
cause w ; in this respect Hume is quite right, habit
(but not only that of the individual) allows us to
expect that a certain process, frequently observed,
will follow upon another, but nothing more ! That
which gives us such an extraordinarily firm faith in
causality, is not the rough habit of observing the
sequence of processes ; but our inability to interpret
a phenomenon otherwise than as the result of de-
sign. It is the belief "in living and thinking things,
as the only agents of causation ; it is the belief
in will, in design — the belief that all phenomena
are actions, and that all actions presuppose an
agent ; it is the belief in the " subject." Is not
this belief in the concepts subject and object an
arrant absurdity ?

Question : Is the design the cause of a pheno-
menon ? Or is that also illusion ?
Is it not the phenomenon itself?

551.

A criticism of the concept "cause." — We have
absolutely no experience concerning cause ; viewed
psychologically we derive the whole concept from
the subjective conviction, that we ourselves are
causes — that is to say, that the arm moves. . . . But

$6 THE WILL TO POWER.

that is an error, We distinguish ourselves, the
agents, from the action, and everywhere we make
use of this scheme — we try to discover an agent
behind every phenomenon. What have we done ?
I We have misunderstood a feeling of power, tension,
I resistance, a muscular feeling, which is already the
beginning of the action, and posited it as a cause ;
or we have understood the will to do this or that,
as a cause, because the action follows it. There
is no such thing as " Cause," in those few cases in
which it seemed to be given, and in which we pro-
jected it out of ourselves in order to understand a
phenomenon^ it has been shown to be an illusion.
Our understanding of a phenomenon consisted in
our inventing a subject who was responsible for
something happening, and for the manner in which
it happened. In our concept " cause " we have em-
braced our feeling of will, our feeling of " freedom,"
our feeling of responsibility and our design to do
an action : causa efficiens and causa finalis are
fundamentally one.

We believed that an effect was explained when
we could point to a state in which it was inherent.
As a matter of fact, we invent all causes according
to the scheme of the effect : the latter is known to
us. . . . On the other hand, we are not in a position
to say of any particular thing how it will " act."
The thing, the subject the will, the design — all
inherent in the conception "cause." We try to
discover things in order to explain why something
has changed. Even the " atom is one of these
fanciful inventions like the "thing" and the
" primitive subject." . . .

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 57

"T

At last we understand that things — consequent!]
also atoms — effect nothing : because they are non-
existent', and that the concept causality is quite
useless. Out of a necessary sequence of states,*
the latter's causal relationship does not follow
(that would be equivalent to extending their active
principle from 1 to 2, to 3, to 4, to 5). Thepfc is \
no such thins: as a cause or an effect. From the
standpoint of language we do not know how to
rid ourselves of them. But that does not matter.
If I imagine muscle separated from its " effects," I
have denied it. . . .

In short : a phenomenon is neither effected nor \
capable of effecting. Causa is a faculty to effect 1
something, superadded fancifully to what hap- 1
pens. . . .

The interpretation of causality is an illusion. . . .
A " thing " is the sum of its effects, synthetically
united by means of a concept, an image. As a
matter of fact, science has robbed the concept caus-
ality of all meaning, and has reserved it merely as
an allegorical formula, which has made it a matter
of indifference whether cause or effect be put on
this side or on that. It is asserted that in two
complex states (centres of force) the quantities of
energy remain constant.

The calculability of a phenomenon does not lie
in the fact that a rule is observed, or that a neces-
sity is obeyed, or that we have projected a law of
causality into every phenomenon : it lies in the
recurrence of " identical cases"

There is no such thing as a sense of causality,
as Kant would have us believe. We are aghast,

58 THE WILL TO POWER.

we feel insecure, we will have something familiar,
which can be relied upon. ... As soon as we
are shown the existence of something old in a
'new thing, we are pacified. The so-called instinct
: of causality is nothing more than the fear of the
\unfamiliar, and the attempt at finding something
in it which is already known. — It is not a search
[for causes, but for the familiar.

552.

To combat determinism and teleology. — From
the fact that something happens regularly, and
that its occurrence may be reckoned upon, it does
not follow that it happens necessarily. If a quantity
of force determines and conducts itself in a certain
way in every particular case, it does not prove
that it has " no free will." " Mecfaanipal nfpfgsitv "
is not an established fact : it was we who first
read it into the nature of all phenomena. We
interpreted the possibility of formularising pheno-
mena as a result of the dominion of necessary law
over all existence. But it does not follow, because
I do a determined thing, that I am bound to do
it. Compulsion cannot be demonstrated in things :
all that the rule proves is this, that one and the
same phenomenon is not another phenomenon.
Owing to the very fact that we fancied the ex-
istence of subjects " agents " in things, the notion
arose that all phenomena are the consequence of a
compulsory force exercised over the subject — exer-
cised by whom ? once more by an " agent." The
concept " Cause and Effect M is a dangerous one,

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 59

so long as people believe in something that causes,
and a something that is caused.

(a) Necessity is not an established fact, but an
interpretation. j

(b) When it is understood that the " subject "
is nothing that acts, but only a thing of fancy,
there is much that follows.

Only with the subject as model we invented
thingness and read it into the pell-mell of sensa-
tions. If we cease from believing in the acting
subject, the belief in acting things, in reciprocal
action, in cause and effect between phenomena
which we call things, also falls to pieces.

In this case the world of acting atoms also dis-
appears : for this world is always assumed to
exist on the pre-determined grounds that subjects
are necessary.

Ultimately, of course, " the thing-in-itself" also
disappears : for at bottom it is the conception of
a " subject-in-itself." But we have seen that the
subject is an imaginary thing. The antithesis
" thing-in-itself " and "appearance" is untenable;
but in this way the concept " appearance " also
disappears.

*

(c) If we abandon the idea of the acting subject, 1
we also abandon the object acted upon. Duration, I
equality to self, Being, are inherent neither in
what is called subject, nor in what is called object :
they are complex phenomena, and in regard to
other phenomena are apparently durable — -they are

60 THE WILL TO POWER.

distinguishable, for instance, by the different tempo
with which they happen (repose — movement, fixed
— loose : all antitheses which do not exist in them-
selves and by means of which differences of degree
only are expressed ; from a certain limited point
of view, though, they seem to be antitheses. There
are no such things as antitheses ; it is from logic
that we derive our concept of contrasts — and
starting out from its standpoint we spread the
error over all things).

*

{d) If we abandon the ideas " subject " and
" object " ; then we must also abandon the idea
"substance" — and therefore its various modifications
too ; for instance : " matter," " spirit," and other
hypothetical things, "eternity and the immuta-
bility of matter," etc. We are then rid of materi-
ality.

*

From a moral standpoint the world is false.
But inasmuch as morality itself is a part of this
world, morality also is false. The will to truth is
a process of establishing things ; it is a process of
making things true and lasting, a total elimination
of that false character, a transvaluation of it into
being. Thus, " truth " is not something which is
present and which has to be found and discovered ;
it is something which has to be created and which
gives its name to a process, or, better still, to the
Will to overpower, which in itself has no purpose :
to introduce truth is a processus in infinitum, an
active determining — it is not a process of be-

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 6l

coming conscious of something, which in itself is
fixed and determined. It is merely a word for
" The Will to Power."

Life is based on the hypothesis of a belief in
stable and regularly recurring things ; the mightier
it is, the more vast must be the world of know-
ledge and the world called being. Logicising,
rationalising, and systematising are of assistance
as means of existence.

Man projects his instinct of truth, his " aim," to
a certain extent beyond himself, in the form of a
metaphysical world of Being, a " thing-in-itself,"
a world already to hand. His requirements as a
creator make him invent the world in which he
works in advance ; he anticipates it : this anticipa-
tion (this faith in truth) is his mainstay.

All phenomena, movement, Becoming, regarded
as the establishment of relations of degree and of

force, as a contest

*

As soon as we fancy that some one is responsible
for the fact that we are thus and thus, etc. (God,
Nature), and that we ascribe our existence, our
happiness, our misery, our destiny, to that some one,
we corrupt the innocence of Becoming for ourselves.
We then have some one who wishes to attain to
something by means of us and with us.

The " welfare of the individual " is just as fanci-
ful as the " welfare of the species " : the first is not
sacrificed to the last ; seen from afar, the species

62 THE WILL TO POWER.

is just as fluid as the individual. " The preserva-
tion of the species " is only a result of the groiuth
of the species — that is to say, of the overcoming of
the species on the road to a stronger kind.

Theses : — The apparent conformity of means to
end (" the conformity of means to end which far
surpasses the art of man ") is merely the result of
that " Will to Power " which manifests itself in all
phenomena: — To become stronger involves a pro-
cess of ordering, which may well be mistaken for an
attempted conformity of means to end : — The ends
which are apparent are not intended ; but, as soon
as a superior power prevails over an inferior power,
and the latter proceeds to work as a function
of the former, an order of rank is established, an
organisation which must give rise to the idea that
there is an arrangement of means and ends.

Against apparent " necessity " : —

This is only an expression for the fact that a
certain power is not also something else.

Against the apparent " conformity of means to
ends " :—

The latter is only an expression for the order
among the spheres of power and their interplay.

0) The Thing-in-Itself and Appearance.

553-

The foul blemish on Kant's criticism has at last
become visible even to the coarsest eyes : Kant

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 63

had no right to his distinction " appearance " and
" thing-in-itself" — in his own writings he had
deprived himself of the right of differentiating any
longer in this old and hackneyed manner, seeing
that he had condemned the practice of drawing
any conclusions concerning the cause of an appear-
ance from the appearance itself, as unallowable —
in accordance with his conception of the idea of
causality and its purely intraphenomenal validity :
and this conception, on the other hand, already
anticipates that differentiation, as if the " thing-in-
itself" were not only inferred but actually given.

554.

It is obvious that neither things-in-themselves
nor appearances can be related to each other in
the form of cause and effect: and from this it
follows that the concept " cause and effect " is not
applicable in a philosophy which believes in things-
in-themselves and in appearances. Kant's mis-
take— . . As a matter of fact, from a psycho-
logical standpoint, the concept " cause and effect "
is derived from an attitude of mind which believes
it sees the action of will upon will everywhere, —
which believes only in living things, and at bottom
only in souls (not in things). Within the mechani-
cal view of the world (which is logic and its appli-
cation to space and time) that concept is reduced
to the mathematical formula with which — and
this is a fact which cannot be sufficiently em-
phasised— nothing is ever understood, but rather
defined — deformed.

64 THE WILL TO POWER.

555-

The greatest of all fables is the one relating to
knowledge. People would like to know how
things-in-themselves are constituted : but behold,
there are no things-in-themselves ! But even
supposing there were an " in-itself ," an uncon-
ditional thing, it could on that very account not
be known ! Something unconditioned cannot be
known : otherwise it would not be unconditioned !
Knowing, however, is always a process of " coming
into relation with something " ; the knowledge-
seeker, on this principle, wants the thing, which he
would know, to be nothing to him, and to be
nothing to anybody at all : and from this there
results a contradiction, — in the first place, between
this will to know, and this desire that the thing to
be known should be nothing to him (wherefore
know at all then?); and secondly, because something
which is nothing to anybody, does not even exist,
and therefore cannot be known. Knowing means :
" to place one's self in relation with something,"
to feel one's self conditioned by something and one's
self conditioning it — under all circumstances, then,
it is a process of making stable or fixed, of defining,
of making conditions conscious (not a process of
sounding things, creatures, or objects "in-them-
selves ").

556.

A " thing-in-itself " is just as absurd as a " sense-
in-itself," a " meaning-in-itself." There is no such

THE WILL TO TOWER IN SCIENCE. 65

thing as a " fact-in-itself," for a meaning must
always be given to it before it can become a fact.

The answer to the question, " What is that ? " is
a process of fixing a meaning from a different
standpoint. The " essence" the " essential factor"
is something which is only seen as a whole in
perspective, and which presupposes a basis which
is multifarious. Fundamentally the question is
" What is that for me ? " (for us, for everything that
lives, etc. etc.).

A thing would be defined when all creatures had
asked and answered this question, " What is that ? "
concerning it. Supposing that one single creature,
with its own relations and standpoint in regard to
all things, were lacking, that thing would still
remain undefined.

In short : the essence of a thing is really only
an opinion concerning that " thing." Or, better
still ; " it is worth " is actually what is meant by
" it is" or by " that is."

One may not ask : " Who interprets, then ? " for
the act of interpreting itself, as a form of the Will
to Power, manifests itself (not as " Being," but as
a process, as Becoming) as a passion.

The origin of " things " is wholly the work of
the idealising, thinking, willing, and feeling subject.
The concept " thing " as well as all its attributes. —
Even " the subject " is a creation of this order, a
" thing " like all others : a simplification, aiming at
a definition of the power that fixes, invents, and
thinks, as such, as distinct from all isolated fixing,
inventing, and thinking. Thus a capacity defined
or distinct from all other individual capacities : at
vol. 11, E

66 THE WILL TO POWER.

bottom action conceived collectively in regard to
all the action which has yet to come (action and
the probability of similar action).

557-

The qualities of a thing are its effects upon other
" things."

If one imagines other " things " to be non-
existent, a thing has no qualities.

That is to say : there is nothing without other
things.

That is to say : there is no " thing-in-itself."

558.

The thing-in-itself is nonsense. If I think all
the " relations," all the " qualities," all the " activi-
ties " of a thing, away, the thing itself does not
remain : for " thingness " was only invented fanci-
fully by us to meet certain logical needs — that is
to say, for the purposes of definition and compre-
hension (in order to correlate that multitude of
relations, qualities, and activities).

559-

"Things which have a nature in themselves"
— a dogmatic idea, which must be absolutely
abandoned.

560.

That things should have a nature in themselves,
quite apart from interpretation and subjectivity, is
a perfectly idle hypothesis-, it would presuppose

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 67

that interpretation and the act of being subjective are
not essential, that a thing divorced from all its
relations can still be a thing.

Or, the other way round : the apparent objective
character of things ; might it not be merely the
result of a difference of degree within the subject
perceiving ?— could not that which changes slowly
strike us as being " objective," lasting, Being, " in-
itself"? — could not the objective view be only a false
way of conceiving things and a contrast within the
perceiving subject ?

561.

If all unity were only unity as organisation.
But the " thing " in which we believe was invented
only as a substratum to the various attributes.
If the thing " acts," it means : we regard all the
other qualities which are to hand, and which are
momentarily latent, as the cause accounting for the
fact that one individual quality steps forward — that
is to say, we take the sum of its qualities — x —
as the cause of the quality x\ which is obviously
quite absurd and imbecile !

All unity is only so in the form of organisation
and collective action : in the same way as a human
community is a unity — that is to say, the reverse
of atomic anarchy ; thus it is a body politic, which
stands for one, yet is not one.

562.

" At some time in the development of thought,
a point must have been reached when man
became conscious of the fact that what he called

68 THE WILL TO POWER.

the qualities of a thing were merely the sensations
of the feeling subject : and thus the qualities
ceased from belonging to the thing." The " thing-
in-itself" remained over. The distinction between
the thing-in-itself and the thing-for-us, is based
upon that older and artless observation which
would fain grant energy to things : but analysis
revealed that even force was only ascribed to them
by our fancy, as was also — substance. " The thing
affects a subject ? " Thus the root of the idea of
substance is in language, not in things outside our-
selves ! The thing-in-itself is not a problem at all !
Being will have to be conceived as a sensation
which is no longer based upon anything quite
devoid of sensation.

In movement no new meaning is given to feel-
ing. That which is, cannot be the substance of
movement : it is therefore a form of Being.

N.B. — The explanation of life may be sought,
in the first place, through mental images
of phenomena which precede it (purposes);
Secondly, through mental images of pheno-
mena which follow behind it (the mathe-
matico-physical explanation).
The two should not be confounded. Thus : the
physical explanation, which is the symbolisation
of the world by means of feeling and thought,
cannot in itself make feeling and thinking originate
again and show its derivation : physics must rather
construct the world of feeling, consistently without
feeling or purpose — right up to the highest man.
And teleology is only a history of purposes \ and is
never physical.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 69

563

Our method of acquiring " knowledge " is
limited to a process of establishing quantities ; but
we can by no means help feeling the difference^ of
quantity as differences of quality. Quality is merely
a relative truth for us ; it is not a " thing-in-itself."

Our senses have a certain definite quantum as
a mean, within the limits of which they perform
their functions — that is to say, we become conscious
of bigness and smallness in accordance with the con-
ditions of our existence. If we sharpened or blunted
our senses tenfold, we should perish — that is to say,
we feel even proportions as qualities in regard to
our possibilities of existence.

564

But could not all quantities be merely tokens
of qualities! Another consciousness and scale of
desires must correspond to greater power — in fact,
another point of view ; growth in itself is the ex-
pression of a desire to become more ; the desire for
a greater quantum springs from a certain quale ; in
a purely quantitative world, everything would be
dead, stiff, and motionless. — The reduction of all
qualities to quantities is nonsense : it is discovered
that they can only stand together, an analogy —

565. .

Qualities are our insurmountable barriers ; we
cannot possibly help feeling mere differences of
quantity as something fundamentally different from
quantity — that is to say, as qualities, which we

70 THE WILL TO POWER.

can no longer reduce to terms of quantity. But
everything in regard to which the word " know-
ledge " has any sense at all, belongs to the realm
of reckoning, weighing, and measuring, to quantity :
whereas, conversely, all our valuations (that is to
say, our sensations) belong precisely to the realm
of qualities, i.e. to those truths which belong to
us alone and to our point of view, and which
absolutely cannot be " known." It is obvious that
every one of us, different creatures, must feel
different qualities, and must therefore live in a
different world from the rest. Qualities are an
idiosyncrasy proper to human nature ; the demand
that these our human interpretations and values,
should be general and perhaps real values, belongs
to the hereditary madnesses of human pride.

566.

The " real world," in whatever form it has been
conceived hitherto — was always the world of ap-
pearance over again.

567.

The world of appearance, i.e. a world regarded
in the light of values ; ordered, selected according
to values — that is to say, in this case, according to
the standpoint of utility in regard to the preserva-
tion and the increase of power of a certain species
of animals.

It is the point of view, then, which accounts for
the character of" appearance." As if a world could
remain over, when the point of view is cancelled !
By such means relativity would also be cancelled !

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 7 1

Every centre of energy has its point of view of
the whole of the remainder of the world — that is
to say, its perfectly definite valuation, its mode of
action, its mode of resistance. The " world of ap-
pearance " is thus reduced to a specific kind of
action on the world proceeding from a centre.

But there is no other kind of action ; and the
" world " is only a word for the collective play of
these actions. Reality consists precisely in this
particular action and reaction of every isolated
factor against the whole.

There no longer remains a shadow of a right to
speak here of " appearance." . . .

The specific way of reacting is the only way of
reacting ; we do not know how many kinds and
what sort of kinds there are.

But there is no " other" no " real," no essential
being, — for thus a world without action and re-
action would be expressed. . . .

The antithesis : world of appearance and real
world, is thus reduced to the antitheses " world "
and " nonentity."

568.

A criticism of the concept u real and apparent
world." — Of these two the first is a mere fiction,
formed out of a host of imaginary things.

" Appearance " itself belongs to reality : it is a
form of its being ; i.e. in a world where there is no
such thing as being, a certain calculable world of
identical cases must first be created through appear-
ance ; a tempo in which observation and comparison
is possible, etc.

72 THE WILL TO POWER.

" Appearance " is an adjusted and simplified
world, in which our practical instincts have worked:
for us it is perfectly true : for we live in it, we can
live in it : this is the proof of its truth as far as we
are concerned. . . .

The world, apart from the fact that we have to
live in it — the world, which we have not adjusted to
our being, our logic, and our psychological preju-
dices— does not exist as a world " in-itself " ; it is
essentially a world of relations : under certain cir-
cumstances it has a different aspect from every differ-
ent point at which it is seen : it presses against
every point, and every point resists it — and these
collective relations are in every case incongruent

The measure of power determines what being
possesses the other measure of power : under what
form, force, or constraint, it acts or resists.

Our particular case is interesting enough : we
have created a conception in order to be able to
live in a world, in order to perceive just enough to
enable us to endure life in that world. . . .

569.

The nature of our psychological vision is deter-
mined by the fact —

(1) That communication is necessary, and that
for communication to be possible something must be
stable, simplified, and capable of being stated pre-
cisely (above all, in the so-called identical case). In
order that it may be communicable, it must be felt as
something adjusted^ as " recognisable!' The material
of the senses, arranged by the understanding, re-

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 73

duced to coarse leading features, made similar to
other things, and classified with its like. Thus :
the indefiniteness and the chaos of sense-impres-
sions are, as it were, made logical.

(2) The phenomenal world is the adjusted world
which we believe to be real. Its " reality " lies in
the constant return of similar, familiar, and related
things, in their rationalised character \ and in the be-
lief that we are here able to reckon and determine.

(3) The opposite of this phenomenal world is
not " the real world," but the amorphous and un-
adjustable world consisting of the chaos of sensa-
tions— that is to say, another kind of phenomenal
world, a world which to us is " unknowable."

(4) The question how "things-in-themselves" are
constituted, quite apart from our sense-receptivity
and from the activity of our understanding, must
be answered by the further question : how were
we able to know that things existed"} " Thingness "
is one of our own inventions. The question is
whether there are not a good many more ways of
creating such a world of appearance — and whether
this creating, rationalising, adjusting, and falsifying
be not the best-guaranteed reality itself: in short,
whether that which " fixes the meaning of things "
is not the only reality : and whether the " effect
of environment upon us " be not merely the result
of such will-exercising subjects. . . . The other
" creatures " act upon us ; our adjusted world of
appearance is an arrangement and an overpowering
of its activities : a sort of defensive measure. The
subject alone is demonstrable ; the hypothesis might
be advanced that subjects are all that exist> — that

74 THE WILL TO POWER.

" object " is only a form of action of subject upon
subject ... a modus of the subject.

(k) The Metaphysical Need.

570.

If one resembles all the philosophers that have
gone before, one can have no eyes for what has
existed and what will exist — one sees only what
is. But as there is no such thing as Being ; all
that the philosophers had to deal with was a host
of fancies , this was their " world."

571.

To assert the existence as a whole of things con-
cerning which we know nothing, simply because
there is an advantage in not being able to know
anything of them, was a piece of artlessness on
Kant's part, and the result of the recoil-stroke of
certain needs — especially in the realm of morals
and metaphysics.

572.

An artist cannot endure reality ; he turns away
or back from it : his earnest opinion is that the
worth of a thing consists in that nebulous residue
of it which one derives from colour, form, sound,
and thought ; he believes that the more subtle, at-
tenuated, and volatile, a thing or a man becomes,
the more valuable he becomes : the less real, the
greater the worth. This is Platonism : but Plato
was guilty of yet further audacity in the matter of

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 75

turning tables — he measured the degree of reality
according to the degree of value, and said : The
more there is of " idea " the more there is of Being.
He twisted the concept " reality " round and said :
" What ye regard as real is an error, and the nearer
we get to the ' idea ' the nearer we are to 'truth.' " —
Is this understood ? It was the greatest of all re-
christenings : and because Christianity adopted it,
we are blind to its astounding features. At bottom, 4
Plato, like the artist he was, placed appearance before l
Being ! and therefore lies and fiction before truth !/|
unreality before actuality !^He was, however, s(
convinced of the value of appearance, that h<
granted it the attributes of " Being," " causality/
" goodness," and " truth," and, in short, all those
things which are associated with value.

The concept value itself regarded as a cause :
first standpoint.

The ideal granted all attributes, conferring
honour: second standpoint.

573.

The idea of the " true world " or of " God " as
absolutely spiritual, intellectual, and good, is an
emergency measure to the extent to which the
antagonistic instincts are all-powerful. . . .

Moderation and existing humanity is reflected
exactly in the humanisation of the gods. The
Greeks of the strongest period, who entertained no
fear whatever of themselves, but on the contrary
were pleased with themselves, brought down their
gods to all their emotions.

76 THE WILL TO POWER.

The spiritualisation of the idea of God is thus
very far from being a sign of progress : one is
heartily conscious of this when one reads Goethe
— in his works the vaporisation of God into virtue
and spirit is felt as being upon a lower plane.

574-

The nonsense, of all, metaphysics shown to reside
in the derivation of the conditioned out of the
unconditioned.

It belongs to the nature of thinking that it adds
the unconditioned to the conditioned, that it invents
it — just as it thought of and invented the " ego " to
cover the multifariousness of its processes : it meas-
ures the world according to a host of self-devised
measurements — according to its fundamental
fictions " the unconditioned," " end and means,"
" things," " substances," and according to logical
laws, figures, and forms.

There would be nothing which could be called
knowledge, if thought did not first so re-create the
world into " things " which are in its own image.
It is only through thought that there is untruth.

The origin of thought, like that of feelings,
cannot be traced : but that is no proof of its
primordiality or absoluteness ! It simply shows
that we cannot get behind it, because we have
nothing else save thought and feeling.

575-

To know is to point to past experience : in its
nature it is a regressus in infinitum. That which

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. jy

halts (in the face of a so-called causa prima or the
unconditioned, etc.) is laziness, weariness

576.

Concerning the psychology of metaphysics — the
influence of fear. That which has been most
feared, the cause of the greatest suffering (lust of
power, voluptuousness, etc.), has been treated with
the greatest amount of hostility by men, and
eliminated from the " real " world. Thus the
passions have been step by step struck out, God
posited as the opposite of evil — that is to say, reality
is conceived to be the negation of the passions and
the emotions (i.e. nonentity).

Irrationality, impulsive action, accidental action,
is, moreover, hated by them (as the cause of incal-
culable suffering). Consequently they denied this ele-
ment in the absolute, and interpreted it as absolute
" rationality " and " conformity of means to ends."

Change and perishability were also feared ; and
by this fear an oppressed soul is revealed, full of
distrust and painful experiences (the case with
Spinoza : a man differently constituted would have
regarded this change as a charm).

A nature overflowing and playing with energy,
would call precisely the passions, irrationality and
change ', good in a eudemonistic sense, together
with their consequences : danger, contrast, ruin, etc.

577.

Against the value of that which always remains
the same (remember Spinoza's artlessness and

yS THE WILL TO POWER.

Descartes' likewise), the value of the shortest and
of the most perishable, the seductive flash of gold
on the belly of the serpent vita

578.

Moral values in, epistemology itself: —

The faith in rtason — why not mistrust ?

The " real world " is the good world — why ?

Appearance, change, contradiction, struggle,
regarded as immoral : the desire for a
world which knows nothing of these things.

The transcendental world discovered, so that
a place may be kept for " moral freedom "
(as in Kant).

Dialectics as the road to virtue (in Plato and
Socrates : probably because sophistry was
held to be the road to immorality).

Time and space are ideal : consequently
there is unity in the essence of things ;
consequently no " sin," no evil, no imper-
fection,— a justification of God.

Epicurus denied the possibility of knowledge,
in order to keep the moral (particularly the
hedonistic) values as the highest.

Augustine does the same, and later Pascal
(" corrupted reason"), in favour of Christian
values.

Descartes' contempt for everything variable ;
likewise Spinoza's.

579-
Concerning the psychology of metaphysics. — This
world is only apparent : therefore there must be a

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 79

real world ; — this world is conditioned : conse-
quently there must be an unconditioned world ; —
this world is contradictory : consequently there is
a world free from contradiction ; — this world is
evolving : consequently there is somewhere a static
world : — a host of false conclusions (blind faith in
reason : if A exists, then its opposite B must also
exist). Pain inspires these conclusions : at bottom
they are wishes that such a world might exist ; the
hatred of a world which leads to suffering is like-
wise revealed by the fact that another and better
world is imagined : the resentment of the meta-
physician against reality is creative here.

The second series of questions : wherefore suffer ?
. . . and from this a conclusion is derived con-
cerning the relation of the real world to our
apparent, changing, suffering, and contradictory
world : (1) Suffering as the consequence of error :
how is error possible ? (2) Suffering as the conse-
quence of guilt : how is guilt possible ? (A host
of experiences drawn from the sphere of nature or
society, universalised and made absolute.) But if
the conditioned world be causally determined by
the unconditioned, then the freedom to erry to be
sinful, must also be derived from the same quarter :
and once more the question arises, to what purpose ?
. . . The world of appearance, of Becoming, of
contradiction, of suffering, is therefore willed; to
what purpose ?

The error of these conclusions : two contradictory
concepts are formed — because one of them corre-
sponds to a reality, the other " must " also corre-
spond to a reality. " Whence " would one otherwise

80 THE WILL TO POWER.

derive its contradictory concept? Reason is thus
a source of revelation concerning the absolute.

But the origin of the above contradictions need
not necessarily be a supernatural source of reason :
it is sufficient to oppose the real genesis of the
concepts: — this springs from practical spheres, from
utilitarian spheres, hence the strong faith it com-
mands {one is threatened with ruin if one's con-
clusions are not in conformity with this reason ; but
this fact is no "proof" of what the latter asserts).

The preoccupation of metaphysicians with pain,
is quite artless. " Eternal blessedness " : psycho-
logical nonsense. Brave and creative men never
make pleasure and pain ultimate questions — they
are incidental conditions : both of them must be
desired when one will attain to something. It
is a sign of fatigue and illness in these meta-
physicians and religious men, that they should
press questions of pleasure and pain into the
foreground. Even morality in their eyes derives
its great importance only from the fact that it is
regarded as an essential condition for abolishing
pain.

The same holds good of the preoccupation with
appearance and error: the cause of pain. A
superstition that happiness and truth are related
(confusion : happiness in " certainty," in " faith ").

5 80.

To what extent are the various epistemological
positions (materialism, sensualism, idealism) conse-
quences of valuations? The source of the highest

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE 8 1

feelings of pleasure (" feelings of value") may also
judge concerning the problem of reality !

The measure of positive knowledge is quite a
matter of indifference and beside the point : as
witness the development of India.

The Buddhistic negation of reality in general
(appearance = pain) is perfectly consistent : un-
demonstrability, inaccessibility, lack of categories,
not only for an " absolute world," but a recogni-
tion of the erroneous procedures by means of which
the whole concept has been reached. " Absolute
reality," " Being in itself," a contradiction. In a I
world of Becoming, reality is merely a simplification ■
for the purpose of practical ends, or a deception
resulting from the coarseness of certain organs, on
a variation in the tempo of Becoming.

The logical denial of the world and Nihilism is
a consequence of the fact that we must oppose
nonentity with Being, and that " Becoming " is
denied. (" Something" becomes.)

581.

Being and Becoming. — "Reason" developed
upon a sensualistic basis upon the prejudices of
the senses — that is to say, with the belief in the
truth of the judgment of the senses.

" Being," as the generalisation of the concept
" Life " (breath), " to be animate," " to will," " to act
upon," " become."

The opposite is : " to be inanimate," " not to
become," " not to will." Thus : " Being " is not
opposed to " not-Being," to " appearance," nor is
vol. 11. F

82 THE WILL TO POWER.

it opposed to death (for only that can be dead
which can also live).

The " soul," the " ego," posited as primeval
facts ; and introduced wherever there is Becoming.

582.

Being — we have no other idea of it than that
which we derive from " living!* — How then can
everything " be " dead ?

583.

A.

I see with astonishment that science resigns
itself to-day to the fate of being reduced to the
world of appearance : we certainly have no organ
of knowledge for the real world — be it what it
may.

At this point we may well ask : With what
organ of knowledge is this contradiction estab-
lished? . . .

The fact that a world which is accessible to
our organs is also understood to be dependent
upon these organs, and the fact that we should
understand a world as subjectively conditioned,
are no proofs of the actual possibility of an
objective world. Who urges us to believe that
subjectivity is real or essential ?

The absolute is even an absurd concept : ai
"absolute mode of existence" is nonsense, th(
concept " being," " thing," is always relative to us.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE 83

The trouble is that, owing to the old antithesis
"apparent" and " real," the correlative valuations
" of little value " and " absolutely valuable " have
been spread abroad.

The world of appearance does not strike us as
a " valuable " world ; appearance is on a lower
plane than the highest value. Only a " real "
world can be absolutely "valuable." . . .

Prejudice of prejudices ! It is perfectly possible
in itself that the real nature of things would be
so unfriendly, so opposed to the first conditions of
life, that appearance is necessary in order to make
life possible. . . . This is certainly the case in
a large number of situations — for instance, mar-
riage.

Our empirical world would thus be conditioned,
even in its limits to knowledge, by the instinct of
self-preservation : we regard that as good, valu-
able, and true, which favours the preservation of
the species. . . .

(a) We have no categories which allow us to
distinguish between a real and an apparent world.
(At the most, there could exist a world of appear-
ance, but not our world of appearance.)

(J?) Taking the real world for granted, it might
still be the less valuable to us : for the quantum
of illusion might be of the highest order, owing to
its value to us as a preservative measure. (Unless
appearance in itself were sufficient to condemn
anything ?)

(c) That there exists a correlation between the
degrees of value and the degrees of reality (so that
the highest values also possessed the greatest

84 THE WILL TO POWER.

degree of reality), is a metaphysical postulate
which starts out with the hypothesis that we know
the order of rank among values ; and that this
order is a moral one. ... It is only on this
hypothesis that truth is necessary as a definition
of all that is of a superior value.

B.

It is of cardinal importance that the real world
should be suppressed. It is the most formidable
inspirer of doubts, and depreciator of values,
concerning the world which we are\ it was our
most dangerous attempt heretofore on the life of Life.

War against all the hypotheses upon which a
real world has been imagined. The notion that
moral values are the highest values, belongs to
this hypothesis.

The superiority of the moral valuation would
be refuted, if it could be shown to be the result
of an immoral valuation — a specific case of real
immorality : it would thus reduce itself to an
appearance, and as an appearance it would cease
from having any right to condemn appearance.

Then the "Will to Truth" would have to be
examined psychologically : it is not a moral
power, but a form of the Will to Power. This
would have to be proved by the fact that it avails
itself of every immoral means there is ; above all,
of the metaphysicians.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 85

At the present moment we are face to face
with the necessity of testing the assumption that
moral values are the highest values. Method in
research is attained only when all moral prejudices
have been overcome : it represents a conquest
over morality. . . ,

584.

The aberrations of philosophy are the outcome
of the fact that, instead of recognising in logic
and the categories of reason merely a means to
the adjustment of the world for utilitarian ends
(that is to say, " especially," a useful falsification),
they were taken to be the criterion of truth —
particularly of reality. The " criterion of truth "
was, as a matter of fact, merely the biological utility
of a systematic falsification of this sort, on principle :
and, since a species of animals knows nothing
more important than its own preservation, it was
indeed allowable here to speak of" truth." Where
the artlessness came in, however, was in taking
this anthropocentric idiosyncrasy as the measure
of things, as the canon for recognising the " real "
and the " unreal " : in short, in making a relative
thing absolute. And behold, all at once, the
world fell into the two halves, " real " and
" apparent " : and precisely that world which
man's reason had arranged for him to live and
to settle in, was discredited. Instead of using
the forms as mere instruments for making the
world manageable and calculable, the mad fancy
of philosophers intervened, and saw that in these
categories the concept of that world is given which

86 THE WILL TO POWER.

does not correspond to the concept of the world
in which man lives. . . . The means were mis-
understood as measures of value, and even used
as a condemnation of their original purpose. . . .

The purpose was, to deceive one's self in a use-
ful way : the means thereto was the invention of
forms and signs, with the help of which the
confusing multifariousness of life could be reduced
to a useful and wieldy scheme.

But woe ! a moral category was now brought
into the game : no creature would deceive itself,
no creature may deceive itself — consequently there
is only a will to truth. What is " truth " ?

The principle of contradiction provided the
scheme : the real world to which the way is
being sought cannot be in contradiction with
itself, cannot change, cannot evolve, has no
beginning and no end.

That is the greatest error which has ever been
committed, the really fatal error of the world : it
was believed that in the forms of reason a criterion
of reality had been found — whereas their only
purpose was to master reality, by misunderstanding
it intelligently. . . .

. And behold, the world became false precisely
owing to the qualities which constitute its reality ',
namely, change, evolution, multifariousness, con-
trast, contradiction, war. And thenceforward the
whole fatality was there.

1. How does one get rid of the false and
merely apparent world? (it was the real and
only one).

2. How does one become one's self as remote

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. Sy

as possible from the world of appearance? (the
concept of the perfect being as a contrast to the
real being ; or, more correctly still, as the contra-
diction of life. . . .).

The whole direction 'of values was towards the
slander of life ; people deliberately confounded
ideal dogmatism with knowledge in general : so
that the opposing parties also began to reject
science with horror.

Thus the road to science was doubly barred :
first, by the belief in the real world ; and secondly,
by the opponents of this belief. Natural science
and psychology were (i) condemned in their
objects, (2) deprived of their artlessness. . . .

Everything is so absolutely bound and related
to everything else in the real world, that to
condemn, or to think away anything, means to
condemn and think away the whole. The words
" this should not be," " this ought not to be," are
a farce. ... If one imagines the consequences,
one would ruin the very source of Life by sup-
pressing everything which is in any sense what-
ever dangerous or destructive. Physiology proves
this much better \

We see how morality (a) poisons the whole
concept of the world, (J?) cuts off the way to
science, (c) dissipates and undermines all real in-
stincts (by teaching that their root is immoral).

We thus perceive a terrible tool of decadence
at work, which succeeds in remaining immune,
thanks to the holy names and holy attitudes it
assumes.

88 THE WILL TO POWER.

585.

The awful recovery of our consciousness-, not
of the individual, but of the human species. Let
us reflect ; let us think backwards ; let us follow
the narrow and broad highway.

Man seeks " the truth " : a world that does not
contradict itself, that does not deceive, that does
^ot change, a real world — a world in which there
is no suffering : contradiction, deception, varia-
bility— the causes of suffering ! He does not
doubt that there is such a thing as a world as it
ought to be ; he would fain find a road to it (Indian
criticism : even the ego is apparent and not real.)

Whence does man derive the concept of reality ?
— Why does he make variability, deception, con-
tradiction, the origin of suffering; why not rather
of his happiness ? . . .

The contempt and hatred of all that perishes,
changes, and varies : whence comes this valuation
of stability? Obviously, the will to truth is
merely the longing for a stable world.

The senses deceive ; reason corrects the errors :
therefore^ it was concluded, reason is the road to
a static state ; the most spiritual ideas must be
nearest to the " real world." — It is from the
senses that the greatest number of misfortunes
come — they are cheats, deluders, and destroyers.

Happiness can be promised only by Being:
change and happiness exclude each other. The

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 89

loftiest desire is thus to be one with Being. That
is the formula for the way to happiness.

In summa : The world as it ought to be exists ;
this world in which we live is an error — this our
world should not exist.

The belief in Being shows itself only as a result :
the real primum mobile is the disbelief in Becom-
ing, the mistrust of Becoming, the scorn of all
Becoming. . . ,

What kind of a man reflects in this way ? An
unfruitful, suffering kind, a world - weary kind.
If we try and fancy what the opposite kind of man
would be like, we have a picture of a creature
who would not require the belief in Being ; he
would rather despise it as dead, tedious, and in-
different. . . .

The belief that the world which ought to be, is,
really exists, is a belief proper to the unfruitful,
who do not wish to create a world as it should be.
They take it for granted, they seek for means and
ways of attaining to it. " The will to truth " — is
the impotence of the will to create.

To recognise that something\ Antagonism in
is thus or thus : the degrees of

To act so that something will [ energy in

be thus or thus : ) various natures.

The fiction of a world which corresponds to our
desires ; psychological artifices and interpretations
calculated to associate all that we honour and
regard as pleasant, with this real world.

" The will to truth " at this stage is essentially
the art of interpretation : to which also belongs
that interpretation which still possesses strength.

90 THE WILL TO POWER.

The same species of men, grown one degree
poorer, no longer possessed of the power to inter-
pret and to create fictions, produces the Nihilists.
i A Nihilist is the man who says of the world as it
is, that it ought not to exist, and of the world as
it ought to be, that it does not exist. According
to this, existence (action, suffering, willing, and
feeling) has no sense : the pathos of the " in vain "
is the Nihilist's pathos — and as pathos it is more-
over an inconsistency on the part of the Nihilist.

He who is not able to introduce his will into
things, the man without either will or energy, at
least invests them with some meaning, i.e. he
believes that a will is already in them.

The degree of a man's will-power may be
measured from the extent to which he can dis-
pense with the meaning in things, from the extent
to which he is able to endure a world without
meaning: because he himself arranges a small
portion of it.

The philosophical objective view of things may

thus be a sign of poverty both of will and of

' energy. For energy organises what is closest

and next ; the " scientists," whose only desire is

to ascertain what exists, are such as cannot arrange

j things as they ought to be.

The artists, an intermediary species : they at
least set up a symbol of what should exist, — they
are productive inasmuch as they actually alter and
transform; not like the scientists, who leave
everything as it is.

The connection between philosophers and the
pessimistic religions; the same species of man

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.- 91

{they attribute the highest degree of reality to the
things which are valued highest).

The connection between philosophers and moral
men and their evaluations (the moral interpreta-
tion of the world as the sense of the world : after
the collapse of the religious sense).

The overcoming of philosophers by the annihila-
tion of the world of being : intermediary period of
Nihilism ; before there is sufficient strength present
to transvalue values, and to make the world of
becoming, and of appearance, the only world to be
deified and called good.

B.

Nihilism as a normal phenomenon may be a
symptom of increasing strength or of increasing
weakness : —

Partly owing to the fact that the strength to
create and to will ha? grown to such an extent,
that it no longer requires this collective interpreta-
tion and introduction of a sense (" present duties,"
state, etc.) ;

Partly owing to the fact that even the creative
power necessary to invent sense, declines, and
disappointment becomes the ruling condition. The
inability to believe in a sense becomes " unbelief."

What is the meaning of science in regard to both
possibilities ?

(1) It is a sign of strength and self-control; it
shows an ability to dispense with healing, consoling
worlds of illusion.

(2) It is also able to undermine, to dissect, to
disappoint, and to weaken.

92 THE WILL TO POWER.

The belief in truth, the need of holding to some-
thing which is believed to be true : psychological
reduction apart from the valuations that have
existed hitherto. Fear and laziness.

At the same time unbelief-. Reduction. In
what way does it acquire a new value, if a real
world does not exist at all (by this means the
capacity of valuing, which hitherto has been
lavished upors the world of being, becomes free
once more),

586.

apparent" world.

The erroneous concepts which proceed from this
concept are of three kinds : —

(a) An unknown world : — we are adventurers,
we are inquisitive, — that which is known to us
makes us weary (the danger of the concept lies
in the fact it suggests that " this " world is known
to us. . . .) ;

(b) Another world, where things are different : —
something in us draws comparisons, and thereby
our calm submission and our silence lose their
value — perhaps all will be for the best, we have
not hoped in vain. . . . The world where things
are different — who knows ? — where we ourselves
will be different. . . .

(c) A real world : — that is the most singular

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 93

blow and attack which we have ever received ; so
many things have become encrusted in the word
" true," that we involuntarily give these to the
" real world " : the real world must also be a truth-
ful world, such a one as would not deceive us or
make fools of us : to believe in it in this way is to
be almost forced to believe (from convention, as
is the case among people worthy of confidence).

The concept, "the unknown world," suggests
that this world is known to us (is tedious) ;

True concept, "the other world," suggests that this
world might be different, — it suppresses necessity
and fate (it is useless to submit and to adapt
one's self) ;

The concept, the true world, suggests that this
world is untruthful, deceitful, dishonest, not
genuine, and not essential, — and consequently not
a world calculated to be useful to us (it is un-
advisable to become adapted to it ; better resist it).

Thus we escape from " this " world in three
different ways : —

(a) With our curiosity — as though the interest-
ing part was somewhere else ;

(b) With our submission — as though it was not
necessary to submit, as though this world was
not an ultimate necessity ;

(c) With our sympathy and respect — as though
this world did not deserve them, as though it was
mean and dishonest towards us. . . .

In summa : we have become revolutionaries in

94 THE WILL TO POWER.

three different ways ; we have made x our
criticism of the " known world."

1

B.

The first step to reason ; to understand to what
extent we have been seduced, — for it might be
precisely the reverse :

{a) The unknown world could be so constituted
as to give us a liking for H this " world — it may
be a more stupid and meaner form of existence.

(b) The other world, very far from taking
account of our desires which were never realised
here, might be part of the mass of things which
this world makes possible for us ; to learn to know
this world would be a means of satisfying us.

(c) The true world : but who actually says that
the apparent world must be of less value than the
true world ? Do not our instincts contradict this

^judgment? Is not man eternally occupied in
I creating an imaginative world, because he will
j have a better world than reality ? In the first place, I
how do we know that our world is not the true
world ? ... for it might be that the other world
is the world of " appearance " (as a matter of fact,
the Greeks, for instance, actually imagined a
region of shadows ', a life of appearance, beside real
existence). And finally, what right have we to
establish degrees of reality, as it were? That is
something different from an unknown world — that
is already the will to know something of the un-
known. The " other," the " unknown " world —
good ! but to speak of the " true world " is as

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 95

good as " knowing something about it," — that is
the contrary of the assumption of an .r-world. . . .

In short, the world x might be in every way a
more tedious, a more inhuman, and a less dignified
world than this one.

It would be quite another matter if it were
assumed that there were several ^r-worlds — that .
is to say, every possible kind of world besides our \
own. But this has never been assumed. . . .

Problem : why has the image of the other world
always been to the disadvantage of " this " one —
that is to say, always stood as a criticism of it ;
what does this point to? —

A people that are proud of themselves, and
who are on the ascending path of Life, always
picture another existence as lower and less valu-
able than theirs ; they regard the strange unknown
world as their enemy, as their opposite ; they feel
no curiosity, but rather repugnance in regard to
what is strange to them. . . . Such a body of men
would never admit that another people were the
" true people." . . .

The very fact that such a distinction is possible,
— that this world should be called the world of
appearance, and that the other should be called
the " true " world, — is symptomatic.

The places of origin of the idea of " another
world " :
The philosopher who invents a rational world
where reason and logical functions are

96 THE WILL TO POWER.

adequate : — this is the root of the " true "
world.
The religious man who invents a " divine
world " : — this is the root of the " de-
naturalised " and the " anti-natural " world.
The moral man who invents a " free world " :
— this is the root :>f the good, the perfect,
the just, and the holy world.
The common factor in the three places of origin :
psychological error, physiological confusion.

With what attributes is the " other world," as
it actually appears in history, characterised ?
With the stigmata of philosophical, religious, and
moral prejudices.

The " other world " as it appears in the light
of these facts, is synonymous with not-Being, with
not-living, with the will not to live. . . .

General aspect : it was the instinct of the fatigue
of living \ and not that of life, which created the
" other world."

Result: philosophy, religion, and morality are
symptoms of decadence.

(/) The Biological Value of Knowledge.

587.

It might seem as though I had evaded the
question concerning " certainty." The reverse is
true : but while raising the question of the
criterion of certainty, I wished to discover the
weights and measures with which men had weighed
heretofore — and to show that the question con-

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE.

97

cerning certainty is already in itself a dependent
question, a question of the second rank.

588.

The question of values is more fundamental
than the question of certainty : the latter only
becomes serious once the question of values has
been answered.

Being and appearance, regarded psychologically,
yield no " Being-in-itself," no criterion for " reality,"
but only degrees of appearance, measured accord-
ing to the strength of the sympathy which we
feel for appearance.

There is no struggle for existence between
ideas and observations, but only a struggle for
supremacy — the vanquished idea is not anni-
hilated, but only driven to the background or
subordinated. There is no such thing as annihila-
tion in intellectual spheres.

589.

End and means " .
Cause and effect " . .
Subject and object" .
Action and suffering "
Thing - in - itself and
appearance " . . .

VOL. 11.

As interpretations (not
as established facts)
— and in what respect
were they perhaps

- necessary interpreta-
tions? (as "preserva-
tive measures ") — all
in the sense of a
Will to Power.

98 THE WILL TO POWER.

590.

Our values are interpreted into the heart of things.

Is there, then, any sense in the absolute ?

Is not sense necessarily relative-sense and per-
spective ?

All sense is Will to Power (all relative senses
may be identified with it).

591.

The desire for " established facts " — Epistem-
ology : how much pessimism there is in it !

592.

The antagonism between the " true world," as
pessimism depicts it, and a world in which it
were possible to live — for this the rights of truth
must be tested. It is necessary to measure all
these " ideal forces " according to the standard of
life, in order to understand the nature of that
antagonism : the struggle of sickly, desperate life,
cleaving to a beyond, against healthier, more foolish,
more false, richer, and fresher life. Thus it is not
u truth " struggling with Life, but one kind of Life
with another kind. — But the former would fain
be the higher kind ! — Here we must prove that
some order of rank is necessary, — that the first
problem is the order of rank among kinds of Life.

593.

The belief, " It is thus and thus" must be altered
into the will, " Thus and thus shall it be"

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 99

(m) Science.

594-

Science hitherto has been a means of dis-
posing of the confusion of things by hypotheses
which "explain everything" — that is to say, it
has been the result of the intellect's repugnanc<
to chaos. This same repugnance takes hold ol
me when I contemplate myself \ I should like to
form some kind of representation of my inner
world for myself by means of a scheme, and thus
overcome intellectual confusion. Morality was a
simplification of this sort : it taught man as
recognised, as known. — Now we have annihilated
morality — we have once more grown completely
obscure to ourselves ! I know that I know nothing
about myself. Physics shows itself to be a boon
for the mind : science (as the road to knowledge)
acquires a new charm after morality has been laid
aside — and owifig to the fact that we find consist-
ency here alone, we must order our lives in
accordance with it so that it may help us to
preserve it. This results in a sort of practical
meditation concerning the conditions of our exist-
ence as investigators.

595.

Our first principles : no God : no purpose :
limited energy. We will take good care to
avoid thinking out and prescribing the necessary
lines of thought for the lower orders.

?

s'

S

IOO THE WILL TO POWER.

596.

No " moral education " of humanity : but the
disciplinary school of scientific errors is necessary,
because truth disgusts and creates a dislike of
life, provided a man is not already irrevocably
launched upon his way, and bears the con-
sequences of his honest standpoint with tragic
pride.

597.

The first principle of scientific work: faith in
the union and continuance of scientific work, so
that the individual may undertake to work at any
point, however small, and feel sure that his efforts
will not be in vain.

There is a great paralysing force : to work in
*f* vainy to struggle in vain.

The periods of hoarding, when energy and
power are stored, to be utilised later by sub-
sequent periods : Science as a half-way house,
at which the mediocre, more multifarious, and
more complicated beings find their most natural
gratification and means of expression : all those
who do well to avoid action.

\

598.

A philosopher recuperates his strength in a
way quite his own, and with other means : he j
does it, for instance, with Nihilism. The belief
that there is no such thing as truth, the Nihilistic V
belief, is a tremendous relaxation for one who, as

THE WILL TO TOWER IN SCIENCE. IOI

a warrior of knowledge, is unremittingly struggling
with a host of hateful truths. For truth is ugly.

599-

The " purposelessness of all phenomena " : the
belief in this is the result of the view that all
interpretations hitherto have been false, it is a
generalisation on the part of discouragement and
weakness — it is not a necessary belief.

The arrogance of man : when he sees no
purpose, he denies that there can be one!

600.

The unlimited ways of interpreting the world : j
every interpretation is a symptom of growth or
decline.

Unity (monism) is a need of inertia ; Plurality
in interpretation is a sign of strength. One /
should not desire to deprive the world of its disquiet- I
ing and enigmatical nature 1

601.

Against the desire for reconciliation and
peaceableness. To this also belongs every attempt
on the part of monism.

602.

This relative world, this world for the eye,
the touch, and the ear, is very false, even when
adjusted to a much more sensitive sensual ap-

v^

102

THE WILL TO POWER.

paratus. But its comprehensibility, its clearness,
its practicability, its beauty, will begin to near
their end if we refine our senses, just as beauty
ceases to exist when the processes of its history
are reflected upon : the arrangement of the end
is in itself an illusion. Let it suffice, that the
more coarsely and more superficially it is under-
stood, the more valuable^ the more definite, the
more beautiful and important the world then
seems. The more deeply one looks into it, the
further our valuation retreats from our view, —
senselessness approaches I We have created the world
that has any value ! Knowing this, we also per-
ceive that the veneration of truth is already the
result of illusion — and that it is much more
necessary to esteem the formative, simplifying,
moulding, and romancing power.

" All is false — everything is allowed ! *
Only as the result of a certain bluntness of
vision and the desire for simplicity does the
beautiful and the " valuable " make its appearance :
in itself it is purely fanciful.

603.

We know that the destruction of an illusion
does not necessarily produce a truth, but only
one more piece of ignorance ; it is the extension of
our " empty space," an increase in our " waste."

604.

Of what alone can knowledge consist ? —
" Interpretation," the introduction of a sense into

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 103

things, not " explanation " (in the majority of
cases a new interpretation of an old interpretation
which has grown incomprehensible and little more
than a mere sign). There is no such thing as an I
established fact, everything fluctuates, everything!
is intangible, yielding ; after all, the most lasting^'
of all things are our opinions.

605.

The ascertaining of " truth " and " untruth," the
ascertaining of facts in general, is fundamentally
different from the creative placing, forming, mould-
ing, subduing, and willing which lies at the root
of philosophy. To give a sense to things — this duty
always remains over, provided no sense already
lies in them. The same holds good of sounds,
and also of the fate of nations : they are suscept-
ible of the most varied interpretations and turns,
for different purposes.

A higher duty is to fix a goal and to mould
facts according to it : that is, the interpretation of
action, and not merely a transvaluation of con-
cepts.

606.

Man ultimately finds nothing more in things
than he himself has laid in them — this process
of finding again is science, the actual process of
laying a meaning in things, is art, religion, love, W
pride. In both, even if they are child's play, one
should show good courage and one should plough
ahead ; on the one hand, to find again, on the
other, — we are the other, — to lay a sense in things !

104 THE WILL TO POWER.

607.

Science : its two sides : —

In regard to the individual ;
In regard to the complex of culture
(" levels of culture ")
— antagonistic valuation in regard to this and
that side.

608.

The development of science tends ever more
to transform the known into the unknown: its
aim, however, is to do the reverse, and it starts
out with the instinct of tracing the unknown to
the known.

In short, science is laying the road to sovereign
ignorance, to a feeling that " knowledge " does not
exist at all, that it was merely a form of haughti-
ness to dream of such a thing ; further, that we
have not preserved the smallest notion which
would allow us to class knowledge even as a
possibility — that " knowledge " is a contradictory
idea. We transfer a primeval myth and piece
of human vanity into the land of hard facts : we
can- allow a "thing-in-itself" as a concept, just
as little as we can allow " knowledge-in-itself."
The misleading influence of " numbers and logic,"
the misleading influence of " laws."

Wisdom is an attempt to overcome the per-
spective valuations {i.e. the " will to power ") : it is
a principle which is both unfriendly to Life, and also
decadent ; a symptom in the case of the Indians,
etc. ; weakness of the power of appropriation.

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. IO5

609.

It does not suffice for you to see in what ignor-
ance man and beast now live ; you must also
have and learn the desire for ignorance. It is
necessary that you should know that without this
form of ignorance life itself would be impossible,
that it is merely ?, vital condition under which,
alone, a living organism can preserve itself and
prosper : a great solid belt of ignorance must stand
about you.

610.

Science — the transformation of Nature into con-
cepts for the purpose of governing Nature — that
is part of the rubric " means."

But the purpose and will of mankind must grow
in the same way, the intention in regard to the
whole.

611.

Thought is the strongest and most persistently
exercised function in all stages of life — and also
in every act of perception or apparent experience !
Obviously it soon becomes the mightiest and most
exacting of all functions, and in time tyrannises
over other powers. Ultimately it becomes " passion
in itself."

612.

The right to great passion must be reclaimed
for the investigator, after self-effacement and the
cult of " objectivity " have created a false order of
rank in this sphere. Error reached its zenith

106 THE WILL TO POWER.

when Schopenhauer taught : in the release from
passion and in will alone lay the road to " truth,"
to knowledge ; the intellect freed from will could
not help seeing the true and actual essence of things.
The same error in art : as if everything became
beautiful the moment it was regarded without will.

613.

The contest for supremacy among the passions,
and the dominion of one of the passions over the
intellect.

614.

To " humanise " the world means to feel our-
selves ever more and more masters upon earth.

615.

Knowledge, among a higher class of beings,
will also take new forms which are not yet
necessary.

616.

That the worth of the world lies in our inter-
pretations (that perhaps yet other interpretations
are possible somewhere, besides mankind's) ; that
the interpretations made hitherto were perspective
valuations, by means of which we were able to
survive in life, i.e. in the Will to Power and in
the growth of power ; that every elevation of man
involves the overcoming of narrower interpretations;
that every higher degree of strength or power
attained, brings new views in its train, and teaches
a belief in new horizons — these doctrines lie

THE WILL TO POWER IN SCIENCE. 107

scattered through all my works. The world that
concerns us at all is false — that is to say, is not a
fact ; but a romance, a piece of human sculpture,
made from a meagre sum of observation ; it is " in
flux"; it is something that evolves, a great revolving
lie continually moving onwards and never getting
any nearer to truth — for there is no such thing as
" truth."

617.

Recapitulation : —

To stamp Becoming with the character of
Being — this is the highest Will to Power.

The twofold falsification, by the senses on the
one hand, by the intellect on the other, with the
view of maintaining a world of being, of rest, of
equivalent cases, etc.

That everything recurs, is the very nearest
approach of a world of Becoming to a world of
Being : the height of contemplation.

It is out of the values which have been at-
tributed to Being, that the condemnation of, and
dissatisfaction with, Becoming, have sprung: once
such a world of Being had been invented.

The metamorphoses of Being (body, God, ideas,
natural laws, formulae, etc.).

" Being " as appearance — the twisting round of
values : appearance was that which conferred the
values.

Knowledge in itself in a world of Becoming is
impossible ; how can knowledge be possible at all,
then ? Only as a mistaking of one's self, as will to
power, as will to deception.

108 THE WILL TO POWER.

Becoming is inventing, willing, self-denying,
self-overcoming : no subject but an action, it places
things, it is creative, no " causes and effects."

Art is the will to overcome Becoming, it is a
process of" eternalising " ; but shortsighted, always
according to the perspective ; repeating, as it were
in a small way, the tendency of the whole.

That which all life shows, is to be regarded as
a reduced formula for the collective tendency :
hence the new definition of the (^ncegt^Life " as

Instead of li cause and effect," the struggle of
evolving factors with one another, frequently with
I the result that the opponent is absorbed ; no
constant number for Becoming.

The uselessness of old ideals for the interpreta-
tion of all that takes place, once their bestial
origin and utility have been recognised ; they are,
moreover, all hostile to life.

The uselessness of the mechanical theory — it
gives the impression that there can be no purpose.

All the idealism of mankind, hitherto, is on the
: point of turning into Nihilism — may be shown to
be a belief in absolute wordlessness, i.e. purpose-
lessness.

The annihilation of ideals, the new desert waste ;
the new arts which will help us to endure it —
amphibia that we are !

First principles : bravery, patience, no "stepping-
back," not too much ardour to get to the fore.
\{N.B. — Zarathustra constantly maintaining an
lattitude of parody towards all former values, as
ihe result of his overflowing energy.)

II.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE.

i. The Mechanical Interpretation
of the World.

618.

Of all the interpretations of the world attempted
heretofore, the mechanical one seems to-day to
stand most prominently in the front. Apparently
it has a clean conscience on its side ; for no
science believes inwardly in progress and success
unless it be with the help of mechanical procedures.
Every one knows these procedures : " reason " and
" purpose " are allowed to remain out of considera-
tion as far as possible ; it is shown that, provided
a sufficient amount of time be allowed to elapse,
everything can evolve out of everything else, and
no one attempts to suppress his malicious satisfac-
tion, when the " apparent design in the fate " of a
plant or of theyolk of an egg, may be traced to stress
and thrust — in short, people are heartily glad to pay
respect to this principle of profoundest stupidity,
if I may be allowed to pass a playful remark con-
cerning these serious matters. Meanwhile, among
the most select intellects to be found in this move-

-r

110 THE WILL TO POWER.

ment, some presentiment of evil, some anxiety is
noticeable, as if the theory had a rent in it, which
sooner or later might be its last : I mean the sort
of rent which denotes the end of all balloons
inflated with such theories.

Stress and thrust themselves cannot be " ex-
plained," one cannot get rid of the actio in distans.
The belief even in the ability to explain is now
lost, and people peevishly admit that one can only
describe, not explain that the dynamic interpreta-
tion of the world, with its denial of " empty space "
and its little agglomerations of atoms, will soon
get the better of physicists : although in this way
Dynamis is certainly granted an inner quality.

619.

The triumphant concept "energy" with which our
physicists created God and the world, needs yet to
be completed : it must be given an inner will which
I characterise as the " Will to Power" — that is to say,
as an insatiable desire to manifest power ; or the
application and exercise of power as a creative
instinct, etc. Physicists cannot get rid of the
" actio in distans " in their principles ; any more
than they can a repelling force (or an attracting
one). There is no help for it, all movements, all
" appearances," all " laws " must be understood as
symptoms of an inner phenomenon, and the analogy
of man must be used for this purpose. It is
possible to trace all the instincts of an animal to
the will to power ; as also all the functions of
organic life to this one source.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. Ill

620.

Has anybody ever been able to testify to a
force ? No, but to effects, translated into a com-
pletely strange language. Regularity in sequence
has so spoilt us, that we no longer wonder at the
wonderful process.

621.

A force of which we cannot form any idea, is an
empty word, and ought to have no civic rights in
the city of science : and the same applies to the
purely mechanical powers of attracting and repel-
ling by means of which we can form an image of
the world — no more !

622.

Squeezes and kicks are something incalculably
recent, evolved and not primeval. They pre-
suppose something which holds together and can
press and strike ! But how could it hold to-
gether ?

623.

There is nothing unalterable in chemistry : this
is only appearance, a mere school prejudice. We
it was who introduced the unalterable, taking it
from metaphysics as usual, Mr. Chemist. It is a mere
superficial judgment to declare that the diamond,
graphite, and carbon are identical. Why ? Simply
because no loss of substance can be traced in the
scales ! Well then, at least they have something
in common ; but the work of the molecules in the

112 THE WILL TO POWER.

process of changing from one form to the other, an
action we can neither see nor weigh, is just exactly
what makes one material something different — with
specifically different qualities.

624.

Against the physical atom. — In order to under-
stand the world, we must be able, to reckon it up;
in order to be able to reckon it up, we must be
aware of constant causes ; but since we find no
such constant causes in reality, we invent them for
ourselves and call them atoms. This is the origin
of the atomic theory.

The possibility of calculating the world, the
possibility of expressing all phenomena by means
of formulas — is that really " understanding " ?
What would be understood of a piece of music, if
all that were calculable in it and capable of being
expressed in formulae, were reckoned up ? — Thus
" constant causes," things, substances, something
"unconditioned," were therefore invented '; — what
has been attained thereby?

625.

The mechanical concept of " movement " is
already a translation of the original process into the
language of symbols of the eye and the touch.

The concept atom, the distinction between the
" seat of a motive force and the force itself," is a
language of symbols derived from our logical and
cpsyhical world.

It does not lie within our power to alter our

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 1 3

means of expression : it is possible to understand
to what extend they are but symptomatic. To
demand an adequate means of expression is non-
sense : it lies at the heart of a language, of a medium
of communication, to express relation only. . . .
The concept " truth " is opposed to good sense. The
whole province of " truth— falseness " only applies
to the relations between beings, not to an " abso-
lute." There is no such thing as a " being in ?
itself" {relations in the first place constitute being),
any more than there can be " knowledge in itself."

626.

" The feeling- of force cannot proceed from move-
ment : feeling in general cannot proceed from
movement"

" Even in support of this, an apparent experi-
ence is the only evidence : in a substance (brain)
feeling is generated through transmitted motion
(stimuli). But generated ? Would this show that
the feeling did not yet exist there at all} so that
its appearance would have to be regarded as the
creative act of the intermediary — motion ? The
feelingless condition of this substance is only an
hypothesis ! not an experience ! — Feeling, therefore
is the quality of the substance : there actually are
substances that feel."

" Do we learn from certain substances that they
have no feeling? No, we merely cannot tell that
they have any. It is impossible to seek the origin
of feeling in non-sensitive substance." — Oh what
hastiness !

vol. 11. H

ii4

THE WILL TO POWER.

d

'

627.

" To attract " and M to repel," in a purely
mechanical sense, is pure fiction : a word. We
cannot imagine an attraction without a purpose. —
Either the will to possess one's self of a thing, or the
will to defend one's self from a thing or to repel it —
that we '^understand " : that would be an interpreta-
tion which we could use.

In short, the psychological necessity of believ-
ing in causality lies in the impossibility of imagining
a process without a purpose : but of course this says
nothing concerning truth or untruth (the justifica-
tion of such a belief) ! The belief in causes col-
lapses with the belief in TeXrj (against Spinoza and
his causationism).

628.

It is an illusion to suppose that something is
known, when all we have is a mathematical formula
of what has happened: it is only characterised,
described \ no more !

629.

If I bring a regularly recurring phenomenon into
a formula, I have facilitated and shortened my task
of characterising the whole phenomenon, etc. But
I have not thereby ascertained a "law," I have
only replied to the question : How is it that some-
thing recurs here ? It is a supposition that the
formula corresponds to a complex of really
unknown forces and the discharge of forces : it is

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 115

pure mythology to suppose that forces here obey
a law, so that, as the result of their obedience, we
have the same phenomenon every time.

630.

I take good care not tospeak of chemical" laws " :
to do so savours of morality. It is much more a
question of establishing certain relations of power :
the stronger becomes master of the weaker, in so
'far as the latter cannot maintain its degree of
independence, — here there is no pity, no quarter,
and, still less, any observance of " law."

631.

The unalterable sequence of certain phenomena
does not prove any " law," but a relation of power
between two or more forces. To say, " But it is
precisely this relation that remains the same ! " is
no better than saying, " One and the same force
cannot be another force." — It is not a matter of
sequence, — but a matter of interdependence, a pro-
cess in which the procession of moments do not
determine each other after the manner of cause
and effect. . . .

Theseparation of the " action " from the "agent ";
of the phenomenon from the worker of that pheno-
menon ; of the process from one that is not process,
but lasting, substance, thing, body, soul, etc. ; the
attempt to understand a life as a sort of shifting
of things and a changing of places ; of a sort of
" being " or stable entity : this ancient mythology

I

Il6 THE WILL TO POWER.

established the belief in " cause and effect," once it *
had found a lasting form in the functions of speech
and grammar.

632.

The " regularity " of a sequence is only a
metaphorical expression, not a fact, just as ifz. rule
were followed here ! And the same holds good of
" conformity to law." We find a formula in order
to express an ever-recurring kind of succession of
phenomena : but that does not show that we have
discovered a law ; much less a force which is the
cause of a recurrence of effects. The fact that
something always happens thus or thus, is inter-
preted here as if a creature always acted thus or
thus as the result of obedience to a law or to a law-
giver : whereas apart from the " law " it would be
free to act differently. But precisely that in-
ability to act otherwise might originate in the
creature itself, it might be that it did not act thus
or thus in response to a law, but simply because
it was so constituted. It would mean simply :
that something cannot also be something else ; that
it cannot be first this, and then something quite
different ; that it is neither free nor the reverse, but
merely thus or thus. The fault lies in thinking a
subject into things.

633.

To speak of two consecutive states, the first as
"cause,"' and the second as "effect," is false. The
first state cannot bring about anything, the second
has nothing effected in it.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 117

It is a question of a struggle between two
elements unequal in power : a new adjustment is
arrived at, according to the measure of power each
possesses. The second state is something funda-
mentally different from the first (it is not its effect) :
the essential thing is, that the factors which engage
in the struggle leave it with different quanta of
power.

634.

A criticism of Materialism. — Let us dismiss the
two popular concepts, " Necessity " and " Law,"
from this idea : the first introduces a false con-
straint, the second a false liberty into the world.
" Things " do not act regularly, they follow no rule : \y'
there are no things (that is our fiction) ; neither do
they act in accordance with any necessity. There
is no obedience here : for, the fact that something
is as it is, strong or weak, is not the result of
obedience or of a rule or of a constraint. . . .

The degree of resistance and the degree of
superior power — this is the question around which
all phenomena turn : if we, for our own purposes
and calculations, know how to express this in
formulae and " laws," all the better for us ! But
that does not mean that we have introduced any
" morality " into the world, just because we have
fancied it as obedient.

There are no laws : every power draws its last
consequence at every moment. Things are calcul-
able precisely owing to the fact that there is no
possibility of their being otherwise than they are.

A quantum of power is characterised by the

Il8 THE WILL TO POWER.

effect it produces and the influence it resists. The
adiaphoric state which would be thinkable in itself,
is entirely Tacking. It is essentially a will to vio-
lence and a will to defend one's self against violence.
It is not self-preservation : every atom exercises
its influence over the whole of existence — it is
thought out of existence if one thinks this radia-

i tion of will-power away. That is why I call it a
quantum of " Will to Power " ; with this formula one
can express the character which cannot be ab-
stracted in thought from mechanical order, without
suppressing the latter itself in thought.

The translation of the world of effect into a
visible world — a world for the eye — is the concept
" movement." Here it is always understood that

I something has been moved, — whether it be the
fiction of an atomic globule or even of the abstrac-
tion of the latter, the~7Tynamic atom, something is
always imagined that has an effect — that is to say,
we have not yet rid ourselves of the habit into
which our senses and speech inveigled us. Subject
and object, an agent to the action, the action and
that which does it separated : we must not forget
that all this signifies no more than semeiotics and —
nothing real. Mechanics as a teaching of movement
is already a translation of phenomena into man's
language of the senses.

63s.

We are in need of " unities " in order to be
able to reckon : but this is no reason for supposing
that " unities " actually exist. We borrowed the

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 119

concept " unity" from our concept " ego," — our very
oldest article of faith. If we did not believe our-
selves to be unitigs we should never have formed
the concept " thing." Now — that is to say, some-
what late in the day, we are overwhelmingly
convinced that our conception of the concept
" ego " is no security whatever for a real entity.
In order to maintain the mechanical interpretation
of the world theoretically, we must always make
the reserve that it is with fictions that we do so :
the concept of movement (derived from the language
of our senses) and the concept of the atom ( = entity,
derived from our psychical experience) are based
upon a sense-prejudice and a psychological prejudice.

Mechanics formulates consecutive phenomena,
and it does so semeiologically, in the terms of the
senses and of the mind (that all influence is move-
ment ; that where there is movement something is
at work moving) : it does not touch the question of
the causal force.

The mechanical world is imagined as the eye
and the sense of touch alone could imagine a
world (as " moved "), — in such a way as to be
calculable, — as to simulate causal entities " things "
(atoms) whose effect is constant (the transfer of
the false concept of subject to the concept atom).

The mixing together of the concept of numbers,
of the concept of thing (the idea of subject), of
the concept of activity (the separation of that
which is the cause, and the effect), of the concept
of movement : all these things are phenomenal ;
our eye and our psychology are still in it all.

If we eliminate these adjuncts, nothing remains

/

120

THE WILL TO POWER.

f

over but dynamic quanta, in a relation of tension
to all other dynamic quanta : the essence of which
resides in their relation to all other quanta, in their
" influence " upon the latter. The will to power,
not Being, not Becoming, but a pathos — is the
elementary fact, from these first results a Becoming, |
an influencing. . . .

636.

The physicists believe in a " true world " after
their own kind ; a fixed systematising of atoms to
perform necessary movements, and holding good
equally of all creatures, — so that, according to
them, the " world of appearance " reduces itself to
the side of general and generally-needed Being,
which is accessible to every one according to his
kind (accessible and also adjusted, — made " sub-
jective "). But here they are in error. The atom
which they postulate is arrived at by the logic of
that perspective of consciousness; it is in itself
therefore a subjective fiction. This picture of the
world which they project is in no way essentially
different from the subjective picture : the only
difference is, that it is composed simply with more
extended senses, but certainly with our senses. . . .
And in the end, without knowing it, they left
something out of the constellation : precisely the
necessary perspective factor^ by means of which
every centre of power — and not man alone — con-
structs the rest of the world from its point of view
— that is to say, measures it, feels it, and moulds
it according to its degree of strength. . . . They
forgot to reckon with this perspective-^/^ power,

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 121

in "true being," — or, in school-terms, subject-
being. They suppose that this was " evolved "
and added ; — but even the chemical investigator
needs it : it is indeed specific Being, which de-
termines action and reaction according to circum-
stances.

Perspectivity is only a complex form of specific-
ness. My idea is that every specific body strives
to become master of all space, and to extend its
^^frtSwer (its will to power), and to thrust back
everything that resists it. But inasmuch as it is
continually meeting the same endeavours on the
part of other bodies, it concludes by coming to
terms with those (by " combining " with those)
which are sufficiently related to it — and thus they
conspire together for power. And the process
continues.

637.

Even in the inorganic world all that concerns
an atom of energy is its immediate neighbourhood :
distant forces balance each other. Here is the
root of perspectivity, and it explains why a living
organism is " egoistic " to the core.

638.

Granting that the world disposed of a quantum
of force, it is obvious that any transposition of
force to any place would affect the whole system —
thus, besides the causality of sequence, there would
also be a dependence, contiguity, and coincidence.

122 THE WILL TO POWER.

639.

The only possible way of upholding the sense
of the concept " God " would be : to make Him
not the motive force, but the condition of maximum
power, an epoch ; a point in the further develop-
ment of the Will to Power \ by means of which
subsequent evolution just as much as former
evolution — up to Him — could be explained.

Viewed mechanically, the energy of collective
Becoming remains constant; regarded from the
economical standpoint, it ascends to its zenith and
then recedes therefrom in order to remain eternally
rotatory. This " Will to Power " expresses itself
in the interpretation, in the manner in which the
strength is used. — The conversion of energy into life;
" life in its highest power " thenceforward appears
as the goal. The same amount of energy, at different
/ stages of development, means different things.

That which determines growth in Life is the
economy which becomes ever more sparing and
methodical, which achieves ever more and more
with a steadily decreasing amount of energy. . . .
The ideal is the principle of the least possible
expense. . . .

(The only thing that is proved is that the world
is not striving towards a state of stability. Con-
sequently its zenith must not be conceived as a
state of absolute equilibrium. . . .

The dire necessity of the same things happening
in the course of the world, as in all other things,
is not an eternal determinism reigning over all
phenomena, but merely the expression of the fact

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 123

that the impossible is not possible; that a given
force cannot be different from that given force;
that a given quantity of resisting force does not
manifest itself otherwise than in conformity with
its degree of strength ; — to speak of events as
being necessary is tautological.

2. The Will to Power as Life.

(a) The Organic Process.

640.

Man imagines that he was present at the
generation of the organic world : what was there
to be observed, with the eyes and the touch, in
regard to these processes? How much of it can
be put into round numbers? What rules are
noticeable in the movements ? Thus, man would
fain arrange all phenomena as if they were for the
eye and for the touch, as if they were forms of
motion : he will discover formulce wherewith to
simplify the unwieldy mass of these experiences.

The reduction of all phenomena to the level of
men with senses and with mathematics. It is a
matter of making an inventory of human experiences :
granting that man, or rather the human eye and
the ability to form concepts, have been the eternal
witnesses of all things.

641.

A plurality of forces bound by a common
nutritive process we call " Life." To this nutritive

*24 THE WILL TO POWER.

process all so-called feeling, thinking, and imagining
belong as means — that is to say, (i) in the form
of opposing other forces ; (2) in the form of an
adjustment of other forces according to mould and
rhythm ; (3) in the form of a valuation relative to
assimilation and excretion.

642.

The bond between the inorganic and the
organic world must lie in the repelling power
exercised by every atom of energy. " Life "
might be defined as a lasting form of force-estab-
lishing processes, in which the various contending
forces, on their part, grow unequally. To what
extent does counter-strife exist even in obedience ?
Individual power is by no means surrendered
through it. In the same way, there exists in the
act of commanding, an acknowledgment of the
fact that the absolute power of the adversary
has not been overcome, absorbed, or dissipated.
" Obedience," and " command," are forms of the
game of war.

643.

The Will to Power interprets (an organ in
the process of formation has to be interpreted) :
it defines, it determines gradations, differences of
power. Mere differences of power could not be
aware of each other as such : something must be
there which will grow, and which interprets all
other things that would do the same, according to
the value of the latter. In sooth, all interpreta-

THE WILL TO POWER IN NA'.

tion is but a means in itself to become ■ ^ ^
something. (Continual interpretation is > g fif
principle of the organic process.) dicum ^

does

644.

Greater complexity, sharp differentiation, tne
contiguity of the developed organs and functions,
with the disappearance of intermediate members —
if that is perfection, then there is a Will to Power
apparent in the organic process by means of whose
dominating, shaping, and commanding forces it is
continually increasing the sphere of its power, and
persistently simplifying things within that sphere :
it grows imperatively.

" Spirit " is only a means and an instrument in I
the service of higher life, in the service of the \
elevation of life.

645.

"Heredity? as something quite incomprehens-
ible, cannot be used as an explanation, but only
as a designation for the identification of a problem.
And the same holds good of " adaptability!' As
a matter of fact, the account of morphology, even
supposing it were perfect, explains nothing; it
merely describes an enormous fact. How a given
organ gets to be used for any particular purpose
is not explained. There is just as little explained
in regard to these things by the assumption of
causce finales as by the assumption of causes effici-
entes. The concept " causa " is only a means of
expression, no more; a means of designating a
thing.

J

THE WILL TO POWER

646.

«24

are analogies ; for instance, our memory

process all sggest another kind of memory which makes

belong as felt in heredity, development, and forms.

*\pir inventive and experimentative powers suggest

another kind of inventiveness in the application of

instruments to new ends, etc.

That which we call our " consciousness" is quite

guiltless of any of the essential processes of our

preservation and growth ; and no human brain

could be so subtle as to construct anything more

than a machine — to which every organic process

is infinitely superior.

647.

Against Darwinism. — The use of an organ does
not explain its origin, on the contrary ! During
the greater part of the time occupied in the forma-
tion of a certain quality, this quality does not help
to preserve the individual ; it is of no use to him,
and particularly not in his struggle with external
circumstances and foes.

What is ultimately " useful " ? It is necessary
to ask, " Useful for what ? "

For instance, that which promotes the lasting
powers of the individual might be unfavourable to
his strength or his beauty; that which preserves
him might at the same time fix him and keep him
stable throughout development. On the other
hand, a deficiency, a state of degeneration, may be
of the greatest possible use, inasmuch as it acts
as a stimulus to other organs. In the same way,

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 27

a state of need may be a condition of existence, in-
asmuch as it reduces an individual to that modicum
of means which, though it keeps him together, does
not allow him to squander his strength. — The in-
dividual himself is the struggle of parts (for
nourishment, space, etc.) : his development involves
the triumph^ the predominance \ of isolated parts ;
the wasting away, or the " development into
organs," of other parts.

The influence of " environment " is nonsensically
overrated in Darwin : the essential factor in the
process of life is precisely the tremendous inner
power to shape and to create forms, which
merely uses, exploits " environment."

The new forms built up by this inner power
are not produced with a view to any end ; but, in
the struggle between the parts, a new form does
not exist long without becoming related to some
kind of semi-utility, and, according to its use,
develops itself ever more and more perfectly.

648.

" Utility " in respect of the acceleration of the
speed of evolution, is a different kind of " utility "
from that which is understood to mean the greatest
possible stability and staying power of the evolved
creature.

649.

* Useful " in the sense of Darwinian biology
means : that which favours a thing in its struggle
with others. But in my opinion the feeling of

\

128 THE WILL TO POWER.

j being surcharged, the feeling accompanying an
increase in strength, quite apart from the utility of
the struggle, is the actual progress : from these

I feelings the will to war is first derived.

650.

Physiologists should bethink themselves before

putting down the instinct of self-preservation as

' the cardinal instinct of an organic being. A living

; thing seeks above all to discharge its strength :

i " self-preservation " is only one of the results

I thereof. — Let us beware of superfluous teleological

principles ! — one of which is the whole concept of

" self-preservation." *

6Si.

The most-fundamental -and most primeval activ-
ity of a protoplasm cannot be ascribed to a will
to self-preservation, for it absorbs an amount of
material which is absurdly out of proportion with
the needs of its preservation : and what is more,
it does not "preserve itself" in the process, but
actually falls to pieces. . . . The instinct which
rules here, must account for this total absence
in the organism of a desire to preserve itself:
■ hunger " is already an interpretation based upon
the observation of a more or less complex organ-
ism (hunger is a specialised and later form of
the instinct ; it is an expression of the system of
divided labour, in the service of a higher instinct
which rules the whole).

* See Beyond Good and Evil, in this edition, Aph. 13.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 29

652.

It is just as impossible to regard hunger as the
primum mobile, as it is to take self-preservation to
be so. Hunger, considered as the result of in-
sufficient nourishment, means hunger as the result
of a will to power which can no longer dominate.
It is not a question of replacing a loss, — it is only
later on, as the result of the division of labour,
when the Will to Power has discovered other and
quite different ways of gratifying itself, that the
appropriating lust of the organism is reduced to
hunger — to the need of replacing what has been
lost.

653.

We can but laugh at the false " Altruism " of
biologists : propagation among the amoebae ap-
pears as a process of jetsam, as an advantage to
them. It is an excretion of useless matter.

654.

The division of a protoplasm into two takes
place when its power is no longer sufficient to
subjugate the matter it has appropriated : pro- !
creation is the result of impotence.

In the cases in which the males seek the females
and become one with them, procreation is the re-
sult of hunger.

655.

The weaker vessel is driven to the stronger from
a need of nourishment ; it desires to get under it,
vol. 11. I

130

THE WILL TO POWER.

X

if possible to become one with it. The stronger,
on the contrary, defends itself from others ; it refuses
to perish in this way ; it prefers rather to split itself
into two or more parts in the process of growing.
One may conclude that the greater the urgency
seems to become one with something else, the
more weakness in some form is present. The
greater the tendency to variety, difference, inner
decay, the more strength is actually to hand.

The instinct to cleave to something, and the
instinct to repel something, are in the inorganic as
in the organic world, the uniting bond. The whole
distinction is a piece of hasty judgment.

The will to power in every combination of forces,
defending itself against the stronger and coming
down unmercifully upon the zveaker, is more correct.

N.B. — All processes may be regarded as " beings."

656.

The will to power can manifest itself only
against obstacles ; it therefore goes in search of
what resists it — this is the primitive tendency of 1
the protoplasm when it extends its pseudopodia
and feels about it. The act of appropriation and
assimilation is, above all, the result of a desire
to overpower, a process of forming, of additional
building and rebuilding, until at last the subjected
creature has become completely a part of the
superior creature's sphere of power, and has in-
creased the latter. — If this process of incorporation
does not succeed, then the whole organism falls to
pieces ; and the separation occurs as the result of the
will to power : in order to prevent the escape of that

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE.

131

which has been subjected, the will to power falls into
two wills (under some circumstances without even
abandoning completely its relation to the two).

" Hunger * is only a more narrow adaptation,
once the fundamental instinct of power has won
power of a more abstract kind.

657.

What is " passive " ?

What is " active " ?
"Nutrition" . .

Procreation "

To be hindered in the
outward movement of
grasping : it is thus an
act of resistance and
reaction.

To stretch out for power.

Is only a derived pheno-
menon ; the primitive
form of it was the will
to stuff everything in-
side one's own skin.

Only derived ; originally,
in those cases in which
one will was unable to
organise the collective
mass it had appropri-
ated, an opposing will
came into power, which
undertook to effect the
separation and estab-
lish a new centre of
organisation, after a
struggle with the ori-
ginal will.

132 THE WILL TO POWER.

" Pleasure " , . . Is a feeling of power

(presupposing the ex-
istence of pain).

658.

(1) The organic functions shown to be but forms
of the fundamental will, the will to power, — and
buds thereof.

(2) The will to power specialises itself as will to
nutrition, to property, to tools, to servants (obedi-
ence), and to rulers : the body as an example. —
The stronger will directs the weaker. There is no ft
other form of causality than that of will to will.
It is not to be explained mechanically.

(3) Thinking, feeling, willing, in all living organ-
isms. What is a desire if it be not : a provoca-
tion of the feeling of power by an obstacle (or, better
still, by rhythmical obstacles and resisting forces) '
— so that it surges through it ? Thus in all plea-
sure pain is understood. — If the pleasure is to be
very great, the pains preceding it must have been
very long, and the whole bow of life must have
been strained to the utmost.

(4) Intellectual functions. The will to shaping,
forming, and making like, etc.

(J?) Man.

659.

With the body as clue. — Granting that the " soul "
was only an attractive and mysterious thought,

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 33

from which philosophers rightly, but reluctantly,
separated themselves — that which they have since
learnt to put in its place is perhaps even more
attractive and even more mysterious. The human
body, in which the whole of the most distant and
most recent past of all organic life once more
becomes living and corporal, seems to flow through
this past and right over it like a huge and inaud-
ible torrent : the body is a more wonderful thought
than the old " soul." In all ages the body, as our
actual property, as our most certain being, in short,
as our ego, has been more earnestly believed in
than the spirit (or the " soul," or the subject, as
the school jargon now calls it). It has never
occurred to any one to regard his stomach as a
strange or a divine stomach ; but that there is a
tendency and a predilection in man to regard all
his thoughts as " inspired," all his values as " im-
parted to him by a God," all his instincts as
dawning activities — this is proved by the evidence
of every age in man's history. Even now, especi-
ally among artists, there may very often be noticed
a sort of wonder, and a deferential hesitation to
decide, when the question occurs to them, by what
means they achieved their happiest work, and
from which world the creative thought came down I
to them : when they question in this way, they
are possessed by a feeling of guilelessness and
childish shyness. They dare not say : " That came
from me ; it was my hand which threw that die."
Conversely, even those philosophers and theolo-
gians, who in their logic and piety found the most
imperative reasons for regarding their body as a

7

134 THE WILL TO POWER.

deception (and even as a deception overcome and
disposed of), could not help recognising the foolish
fact that the body still remained : and the most
unexpected proofs of this are to be found partly in
Pauline and partly in Vedantic philosophy. But
what does strength of faith ultimately mean ?
Nothing ! — A strong faith might also be a foolish
faith ! — There is food for reflection.

And supposing the faith in the body were ulti-
mately but the result of a conclusion ; supposing
it were a false conclusion, as idealists declare it is,
would it not then involve some doubt concerning
the trustworthiness of the spirit itself which thus
causes us to draw wrong conclusions ?

Supposing the plurality of things, and space,
and time, and motion (and whatever the other
first principles of a belief in the body may be)
were errors — what suspicions would not then be
roused against the spirit which led us to form such
first principles? Let it suffice that the belief in
the body is, at any rate for the present, a much
stronger belief than the belief in the spirit, and he
who would fain undermine it assails the authority
of the spirit most thoroughly in so doing !

*
660.

The Body as an Empire.

The aristocracy in the body, the majority of the
rulers (the fight between the cells and the tissues).

Slavery and the division of labour : the higher
type alone possible through the subjection of the
lower to a function.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 35

Pleasure and pain, not contraries. The feeling
of power. '^»

" Nutrition " only a result of the insatiable lust
of appropriation in the Will to Power.

" Procreation " : this is the decay which super-
venes when the ruling cells are too weak to organ-
ise appropriated material.

It is the moulding force which will have a con-
tinual supply of new material (more " force "). The
masterly construction of an organism out of an egg.

" The mechanical interpretation " : recognises
only quantities : but the real energy is in the
quality. Mechanics can therefore only describe
processes ; it cannot explain them.

" Purpose." We should start out from the< j
" sagacity " of plants. '

The concept of " meliorism " : not only greater
complexity, but greater power (it need not be only
greater masses).

Conclusion concerning the evolution of man : !
the road to perfection lies in the bringing forth of !
the most powerful individuals, for whose use the
great masses would be converted into mere tools
(that is to say, into the most intelligent and flex- !
ible tools possible).

661.

Why is all activity, even that of a sense, associ- \
ated with pleasure ? Because, before the activity
was possible, an obstacle or a burden was done 1
away with. Or, rather, because all action is a
process of overcoming, of becoming master of, and
of increasing the feeling of power ? — The pleasure

T36 THE WILL TO POWER.

of thought. — Ultimately it is not only the feeling
of power, but also the pleasure of creating and of
contemplating the creation : for all activity enters
our consciousness in the form of " works."

662.

Creating is an act of selecting and of finishing
the thing selected. (In every act of the will, this
is the essential element.)

663.

All phenomena which are the result of intentions
may be reduced to the intention of increasing power.

664.

When we do anything, we are conscious of a
feeling of strength ; we often have this sensation
before the act — that is to say, while imagining the
thing to do (as, for instance, at the sight of an
enemy, of an obstacle, which we feel equal to) : it
is always an accompanying sensation. Instinc-
tively we think that this feeling of strength is the
cause of the action, that it is the " motive force."
V Our belief in causation is the belief in force and
^4 its effect ; it is a transcript of our experience : in
! which we identify force and the feeling of force. —
1 Force, however, never moves things ; the strength
which is conscious " does not set the muscles mov-
ing." " Of such a process we have no experience,
no idea." "We experience as little concerning

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 37

force as a motive power, as concerning the necessity
of a movement." Force is said to be the con-
straining element ! " All we know is that one
thing follows another; — we know nothing of
either compulsion or arbitrariness in regard to the
one following the other." Causality is first in-
vented by thinking compulsion into the sequence
of processes. A certain "understanding" of the
thing is the result — that is to say, we humanise
the process a little, we make it more " familiar " ;
the familiar is the known habitual fact of human
compulsion associated with the feeling of force.

66$.

I have the intention of extending my arm ;
taking it for granted that I know as little of the
physiology of the human body and of the mechani-
cal laws of its movements as the man in the street,
what could there be more vague, more bloodless,
more uncertain than this intention compared with
what follows it? And supposing I were the
astutest of mechanics, and especially conversant
with the formulae which are applicable in this case,
I should not be able to extend my arm one whit
the better. Our " knowledge " and our " action "
in this case lie coldly apart : as though in two
different regions. — Again : Napoleon carries out
a plan of campaign — what does that mean ? In
this case, everything concerning the consummation
of the campaign is knoivny because everything must
be done through words of command : but even
here subordinates are taken for granted, who apply

138 THE WILL TO POWER.

and adapt the general plan to the particular emer-
gency, to the degree of strength, etc.

666.

For ages we have always ascribed the value of
\I an action, of a character, of an existence, to the
K intention, to the purpose for which it was done,
/ "acted, or lived : this primeval idiosyncrasy of taste
ultimately takes a dangerous turn — provided the
lack of intention and purpose in all phenomena
comes ever more to the front in consciousness.
With it a general depreciation of all values seems
to be preparing : " All is without sense." — This
melancholy phrase means : " All sense lies in the
intention, and if the intention is absolutely lacking,
then sense must be lacking too." In conformity
with this valuation, people were forced to place the
value of life in a " life after death," or in the pro-
gressive development of ideas, or of mankind, or of
the people, or of man to superman ; but in this
way the progressus in infinitum of purpose had
been reached : it was ultimately necessary to find
one's self a place in the process of the world
♦ (perhaps with the disdaemonistic outlook, it was
a process which led to nonentity).
V In regard to this point, "purpose " needs a some-
\ what more severe criticism : it ought to be recog-
Y I NiiseJ that an action is never caused by a purpose :
that an object and the means thereto are inter-
pretations, by means of which certain points in a
phenomena are selected and accentuated, at the
cost of other, more numerous, points ; that every

0

V

"\

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 39

time something is done for a purpose, something
fundamentally different, and yet other things
happen ; that in regard to the action done with a
purpose, the case is the same as with the so-called
purposefulness of the heat which is radiated from
the sun : the greater part of the total sum is squan-
dered ; a portion of it, which is scarcely worth
reckoning, has a " purpose," has " sense " ; that
an " end " with its " means " is an absurdly in-
definite description, which indeed may be able to
command as a precept, as " will," but presupposes
a system of obedient and trained instruments,
which, in the place of the indefinite, puts forward
a host of determined entities {i.e. we imagine a
system of clever but narrow intellects who postu-
late end and means, in order to be able to grant
our only known " end," the r61e of the " cause of
an action " — a proceeding to which we have no
right : it is tantamount to solving a problem by
placing its solution in an inaccessible world which
we cannot observe).

Finally, why could not an " end " be merely an
accompanying feature in the series of changes
among the active forces which bring about the
action — a pale stenographic symbol stretched in
consciousness beforehand, and which serves as a
guide to what happens, even as a symbol of what
happens, not as its cause? — But in this way we
criticise will itself: is it not an illusion to regard
that which enters consciousness as will-power, as
a cause ? Are not all conscious phenomena only
final phenomena — the lost links in a chain, but
apparently conditioning one another in their

140 THE WILL TO POWER.

\ sequence within the plane of consciousness ? This
\ might be an illusion.

667.

Science does not inquire what impels us to
will : on the contrary, it denies that willing takes
place at all, and supposes that something quite
different has happened — in short, that the belief in
" will " and " end " is an illusion. It does not in-
quire into the motives of an action, as if these had
been present in consciousness previous to the
action : but it first divides the action up into a
group of phenomena, and then seeks the previous
history of this mechanical movement — but not in
the terms of feeling, perception, and thought ; from
this quarter it can never accept the explanation :
perception is precisely the matter of science, which
has to be explained. — The problem of science is
precisely to explain the world, without taking
perceptions as the cause: for that would mean
regarding perceptions themselves as the cause of
perceptions. The task of science is by no means
accomplished.

Thus : either there is no such thing as will, —
the hypothesis of science, — or the will is free. The
latter assumption represents the prevailing feeling,
of which we cannot rid ourselves, even if the hypo-
thesis of science were proved.

The popular belief in cause and effect is founded
on the principle that free will is the cavse of every
effect : thereby alone do we arrive at the feeling
of causation. And thereto belongs also the feeling
that every cause is not an effect, but always only

X

/

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 141

a cause — if will is the cause. " Our acts of will
are not necessary " — this lies in the very concept of
" will." The effect necessarily comes after the
cause — that is what we feel. It is merely a
hypothesis that even our willing is compulsory in
every case.

668.

" To will " is not " to desire," to strive, to aspire
to; it distinguishes itself from that through the ,/
passion of commanding.

There is no such thing as " willing," but only the j
willing of something : the aim must not be severed '
from the state — as the epistemologists sever it. i
" Willing," as they understand it, is no more pos-
sible than " thinking " : it is a pure invention.

It is essential to willing that something should / ___
be commanded (but that does not mean that the /
will is carried into effect).

The general state of tension , by virtue of which
a force seeks to discharge itself, is not " willing."

669.

" Pain " and " pleasure " are the most absurd
means of expressing judgments, which of course
does not mean that the judgments which are
enunciated in this way must necessarily be absurd.
The elimination of all substantiation and logic, a
yes or no in the reduction to a passionate desire
to have or to reject, an imperative abbreviation,
the utility of which is irrefutable : that is pain
and pleasure. Its origin is in the central sphere

142 THE WILL TO POWER.

of the intellect ; its pre-requisite is an infinitely
accelerated process of perceiving, ordering, co-
ordinating, calculating, concluding : pleasure and
pain are always final phenomena, they are never
" causes."

As to deciding what provokes pain and pleasure,
that is a question which depends upon the degree
of poiver: the same thing, when confronted with a
small quantity of power, may seem a danger and
may suggest the need of speedy defence, and when
confronted with the consciousness of greater power,
may be a voluptuous stimulus and may be followed
by a feeling of pleasure.

All feelings of pleasure and pain presuppose a
measuring of collective utility and collective harm-
fulness : consequently a sphere where there is the
willing of an object (of a condition) and the selec-
tion of the means thereto. Pleasure and pain are
never " original facts."

The feelings of pleasure and pain are reactions
of the will (emotions) in which the intellectual
centre fixes the value of certain supervening
changes as a collective value, and also as an in-
troduction of contrary actions.

670.

The belief in " emotions? — Emotions are a
fabrication of the intellect, an invention of causes
which do not exist. All general bodily sensations
which we do not understand are interpreted intel-

/

lectually — that is to say, a reason is sought why we
feel thus or thus among certain people or in certain

s<

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 143

experiences. Thus something disadvantageous
dangerous, and strange is taken for granted, as if
it were the cause of our being indisposed ; as a
matter of fact, it gets added to the indisposition,
so as to make our condition thinkable. — Mighty-
rushes of blood to the brain, accompanied by a
feeling of suffocation, are interpreted as " anger " :
the people and things which provoke our anger
are a means of relieving our physiological con-
dition. Subsequently, after long habituation,
certain processes and general feelings are so
regularly correlated that the sight of certain pro-
cesses provokes that condition of general feeling,
and induces vascular engorgements, the ejection of
seminal fluid, etc. : we then say that the " emotion
is provoked by propinquity."

Judgments already inhere in pleasure and pain :
stimuli become differentiated, according as to
whether they increase or reduce the feeling of
power.

The belief in willing. To believe that a thought
may be the cause of a mechanical movement is
to believe in miracles. The consistency of science
demands that once we have made the world think-
able for ourselves by means of pictures, we should
also make the emotions, the desires, the will, etc.,
thinkable — that is to say, we should deny them
and treat them as errors of the intellect.

671.

Free will or no free will ? — There is no such
thing as " Will" \ that is only a simplified con-

144 THE WILL TO POWER.

ception on the part of the understanding, like
u matter."

All actions must first be prepared and made pos-
sible mechanically before they can be willed. Or,
in most cases the " object " of an action enters the
brain only after everything is prepared for its
accomplishment. The object is an inner " stimulus "
— nothing more.

672.

The most proximate prelude to an action
relates to that action : but further back still there
lies a preparatory history which covers a far
zvider field: the individual action is only a factor
in a much more extensive and subsequent fact.
The shorter and the longer processes are Jiot
reported.

673.

The theory of chance : the soul is a selecting
and self-nourishing being, which is persistently
extremely clever and creative (this creative power
is commonly overlooked ! it is taken to be merely
passive).

I recognised the active and creative power with-
in the accidental. — Accident is in itself nothing
more than the clashing of creative impulses.

674.

Among the enormous multiplicity of pheno-
mena to be observed in an organic being, that
part which becomes conscious is a mere means :
and the particle of " virtue," " self-abnegation,*'

THE WILL TO TOWER IN NATURE. I45

and other fanciful inventions, are denied in a most
thoroughgoing manner by the whole of the re-
maining phenomena. We would do well to study
our organism in all its immorality. . . .

The animal functions are, as a matter of fact, a '
million times more important than all beautiful (
states of the soul and heights of consciousness :
the latter are an overflow, in so far as they are
not needed as instruments in the service of the
animal functions. The whole of conscious life:
the spirit together with the soul, the heart, good-
ness, and virtue ; in whose service does it work ?
In the greatest possible perfection of the means
(for acquiring nourishment and advancement)
serving the fundamental animal functions : above
all, the ascent of the line of Life.

That which is called " flesh " and " body " is of
such incalculably greater importance, that the rest
is nothing more than a small appurtenance. To
continue the chain of life so tftat~7t' becomes ever
more powerful — that is the task.

But now observe how the heart, the soul, virtue,
and spirit together conspire formally to thwart
this purpose : as if they were the object of every
endeavour ! . . . The degeneration of life is es-
sentially determined by the extraordinary falli-
bility of consciousness, which is held at bay least of
all by the instincts, and thus commits the gravest
and profoundest errors.

Now could any more insane extravagance of
vanity be imagined than to measure the value of
existence according to the pleasant or unpleasant
feelings of this consciousness ? It is obviously only

vol. 11. K

1

\

.

146 THE WILL TO POWER.

a means : and pleasant or unpleasant feelings are
also no more than means.

According to what standard is the objective
value measured ? According to the quantity of
increased and more organised power alone.

675.

The value of all valuing. — My desire would be
to see the agent once more identified with the
action, after action has been deprived of all mean-
ing by having been separated in thought from the
agent ; I should like to see the notion of doing
something, the idea of a " purpose," of an " inten-
tion," of an object, reintroduced into the action,
after action has been made insignificant by having
been artificially separated from these things.

All " objects," " purposes," " meanings," are only
manners of expression and metamorphoses of the
one will inherent in all phenomena : of the will to
power. To have an object, a purpose, or an in-
tention, in fact to will generally, is equivalent to
the desire for greater strength, for fuller growth,
and for the means thereto in addition.

The most general and fundamental instinct in
all action and willing is precisely on that account
the one which is least known and is most con-
cealed ; for in practice we always follow its bid-
ding, for the simple reason that we are in ourselves
its bidding. . . .

All valuations are only the results of, and the
narrow points of view in serving, this one will :
valuing in itself "is nothing save this, — will to power.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 147

To criticise existence from the standpoint of
any one of these values is utter nonsense and error.
Even supposing that a process of annihilation
follows from such a value, even so this process is
in the service of this will.

The valuation of existence itself ! But existence
is this valuing itself ! — and even when we say
" no," we still do what we are.

We ought now to perceive the absurdity of this
pretence at judging existence ; and we ought to
try and discover what actually takes place there.
It is symptomatic.

676.

Concerning the Origin of our Valuations.

We are able to analyse our body, and by doing
so we get the same idea of it as of the stellar
system, and the differences between organic and
inorganic lapses. Formerly the movements of the
^ stars were explained as the effects of beings con-
■'\ sciously pursuing a purpose: this is no longer
required, and even in regard to the movements of
the body and its changes, the belief has long since
been abandoned that they can be explained by
an appeal to a consciousness which has a deter-
mined purpose. By far the greater number of
movements have nothing to do with consciousness
at all : neither have they anythi?ig to do zvith sensa-
tion. Sensations and thoughts are extremely rare
and insignificant things compared with the in-
numerable phenomena occurring every second.
On the other hand, we believe that a certain

^

I48 THE WILL TO POWER.

conformity of means to ends rules over the very
smallest phenomenon, which it is quite beyond our
deepest science to understand : a sort of cautious-
ness, selectiveness, co-ordination, and repairing
process, etc. In short, we are in the presence of
an activity to which it would be necessary to ascribe
an incalculably higher and more extensive intellect
than the one we are acquainted with. We learn to
think less of all that is conscious : we unlearn the
habit of making ourselves responsible for ourselves,
because, as conscious beings fixing purposes, we
are but the smallest part of ourselves.

Of the numerous influences taking effect every
second, — for instance, air, electricity, — we feel
scarcely anything at all. There might be a
number of forces, which, though they never make
themselves felt by us, yet influence us continually.
Pleasure and pain are very rare and scanty phen-
omena, compared with the countless stimuli with
which a cell or an organ operates upon another
cell or organ.

It is the phase of the modesty of consciousness.
Finally, we can grasp the conscious ego itself,
merely as an instrument in the service of that
higher and more extensive intellect : and then we
may ask whether all conscious willing, all con-
scious purposes, all valuations, are not perhaps only
means by virtue of which something essentially
different is attained, from that which consciousness
supposes. We mean : it is a question of our
pleasure and pain — but pleasure and pain might
be the means whereby we had something to do
which lies outside our consciousness.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 149

This is to show how very superficial all conscious
phenomena really are ; how an action and the image
of it differ ; how little we know about what precedes
an action; how fantastic our feelings, " freewill," and
" cause and effect " are ; how thoughts and images,
just like words, are only signs of thoughts ; the
impossibility of finding the grounds of any action ;
the superficiality of all praise and blame ; how
essentially our conscious life is composed of fancies
and illusion ; how all our words merely stand for
fancies (our emotions too), and how the union of
mankind depends upon the transmission and con-
tinuation of these fancies : whereas, at bottom, the
real union of mankind by means of procreation
pursues its unknown way. Does this belief in the
common fancies of men really alter mankind ? Or
is the whole body of ideas and valuations only an
expression in itself of unknown changes? Are
there really such things as will, purposes, thoughts,
values ? Is the whole of conscious life perhaps no
more than mirage} Even when values seem to
determine the actions of a man, they are, as a
matter of fact, doing something quite different !
In short, granting that a certain conformity of
means to end might be demonstrated in the action
of nature, without the assumption of a ruling ego :
could not our notion of purposes, and our will, etc.,
be only a symbolic language standing for something
quite different — that is to say, something not-
willing and unconscious ? only the thinnest sem-
blance of that natural conformity of means to end
in the organic world, but not in any way different
therefrom ?

I50 THE WILL TO POWER.

Briefly, perhaps the whole of mental develop-
ment is a matter of the body : it is the consciously-
recorded history of the fact that a higher body is
forming. The* organic ascends to higher regions.
Our longing to know Nature is a means by
virtue of which the body would reach perfection.
Or, better still, hundreds of thousands of experi-
ments are made to alter the nourishment and the
mode of living of the body : the body's conscious-
ness and valuations, its kinds of pleasure and pain,
are signs of these changes and experiments. In the
end, it is not a question concerning man ; for he must
be surpassed.

677.

To what Extent are all Interpretations of the
World Symptoms of a Ruling Instinct.

The artistic contemplation of the world : to sit
before the world and to survey it. But here the
analysis of aesthetical contemplation, its reduction
to cruelty, its feeling of security, its judicial and
detached attitude, etc., are lacking. The artist
himself must be taken, together with his psycho-
logy (the criticism of the instinct of play, as a
discharge of energy, the love of change, the love
of bringing one's soul in touch with strange things,
the absolute egoism of the artist, etc.). What in-
stincts does he sublimate?

The scientific contemplation of the world : a
criticism of the psychological longing for science,
the desire to make everything comprehensible ; the
desire to make everything practical, useful, capable
of being exploited — to what extent this is anti-

r^

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 151

aesthetic. Only that value counts, which may be
reckoned in figures. How it happens that a
mediocre type of man preponderates under the
influence of science. It would be terrible if even
history were to be taken possession of in this way

the realm of the superior, of the judicial. What

instincts are here sublimated !

The religious contemplation of the world: a
criticism of the religious man. It is not necessary
to take the moral man as the type, but the man
who has extreme feelings of exaltation and of deep
depression, and who interprets the former with
thankfulnsss or suspicion — without, however,
seeking their origin in himself (nor the latter
either). The man who essentially feels anything
but free, who sublimates his conditions and states
of submission.

The moral contemplation of the world. The
feelings peculiar to certain social ranks are pro-
jected into the universe : stability, law, the making
of things orderly, and the making of things alike,
are sought in the highest spheres, because they are
valued most highly, — above everything or behind
everything.

What is common to all: the ruling instincts
wish to be regarded as the highest values in general,
even as the creative and ruling powers. It is
understood that these instincts either oppose or
overcome each other (join up synthetically, or
alternate in power). Their profound antagonism
is, however, so great, that in those cases in which
they all insist upon being gratified, a man of very
thorough mediocrity is the outcome.

152 THE WILL TO POWER.

678.

It is a question whether the origin of our
apparent " knowledge " is not also a mere offshoot
of our older valuations, which are so completely
assimilated that they belong to the very basis of
our nature. In this way only the more recent
needs engage in battle with results of the oldest
needs.

The world is seen, felt, and interpreted thus and
thus, in order that organic life may be preserved
with this particular manner of interpretation.
Man is not only an individual, but the continuation
of collective organic life in one definite line. The
fact that man survives, proves that a certain species
of interpretations (even though it still be added to)
has also survived ; that, as a system, this method
of interpreting has not changed. " Adaptation."

Our " dissatisfaction," our " ideal," etc., may
possibly be the result of this incorporated piece of
interpretation, of our particular point of view : the
organic world may ultimately perish owing to it —
just as the division of labour in organisms may
be the means of bringing about the ruin of the
whole, if one part happen to wither or weaken.
The destruction of organic life, and even of the
highest form thereof, must follow the same prin-
ciples as the destruction of the individual.

679,

Judged from the standpoint of the theory of
descent, individuation shows the continuous break-

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 53

ing up of one into two, and the equally continuous
annihilation of individuals for the sake of a fetv
individuals, which evolution bears onwards ; the
greater mass always perishes (" the body ").

The fundamental phenomena : innumerable in-
dividuals are sacrificed for the sake of a few> in
order to make the few possible. — One must not
allow one's self to be deceived ; the case is the same
with peoples and races : they produce the " body "
for the generation of isolated and valuable indi-
viduals % who continue the great process

680.

I am opposed to the theory that the individual
studies the interests of the species \ or of posterity,
at the cost of his own advantage : all this is only
apparent.

The excessive importance which he attaches to
the sexual instinct is not the result of the latter's
importance to the species ; for procreation is the
actual performance of the individual, it is his
greatest interest, and therefore it is his highest
expression of power (not judged from the stand-
point of consciousness, but from the very centre of
the individual).

681.

The fundamental errors of the biologists who
have lived hitherto : it is not a matter of the
species, but of rearing stronger individuals (the
many are only a means).

Life is not the continuous adjustment of internal

154 THE WILL TO POWER.

relations to external relations, but will to power,
which, proceeding from inside, subjugates and
incorporates an ever - increasing quantity of
" external " phenomena.

These biologists continue the moral valuations
(" the absolutely higher worth of Altruism," the
antagonism towards the lust of dominion, towards
war, towards all that which is not useful, and
towards all order of rank and of class).

682.

In natural science, the moral depreciation of the
ego still goes hand in hand with the overestimation
of the species. But the species is quite as illusory
as the ego : a false distinction has been made.
The ego is a hundred times more than a mere unit
in a chain of creatures ; it is the chain itself, in
every possible respect ; and the species is merely
an abstraction suggested by the multiplicity and
partial similarity of these chains. That the
individual is sacrificed to the species, as peopfe
often say he is, is not a fact at all : it is rather
only an example of false interpretation.

683.

The formula of the "progress" -superstition accord-
ing to a famous physiologist of the cerebral
regions : —

" L animal ne fait jamais de progrh comme
espece. Lhomme seul fait de pr ogres comme espece."

No.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 55

684.

Anti-Darwin. — The domestication of man : what
definite value can it have, or has domestication in
itself a definite value ? — There are reasons for
denying the latter proposition.

Darwin's school of thought certainly goes to
great pains to convince us of the reverse : it would
fain prove that the influence of domestication
may be profound and fundamental. For the time
being, we stand firmly as we did before ; up to
the present no results save very superficial
modification or degeneration have been shown
to follow upon domestication. And everything
that escapes from the hand and discipline of man,
returns almost immediately to its original natural
condition. The type remains constant, man can-
not " dtnaturer la nature!'

Biologists reckon upon the struggle for existence,
the death of the weaker creature and the survival
of the most robust, most gifted combatant ; on
that account they imagine a continuous increase in
the perfection of all creatures. We, on the con-
trary, have convinced ourselves of the fact, that in
the struggle for existence, accident serves the
cause of the weak quite as much as that of
the strong ; that craftiness often supplements
strength with advantage ; that the prolificness
of a species is related in a remarkable manner
to that species' chances of destruction. . . .

Natural Selection is also credited with the
power of slowly effecting unlimited metamor-
phoses : it is believed that eVery advantage is

156 THE WILL TO TOWER.

transmitted by heredity, and strengthened in the
course of generations (when heredity is known to
be so capricious that . . .) ; the happy adaptations
of certain creatures to very special conditions of life,
are regarded as the result of surrounding influences.

Nowhere, however, are examples of unconscious
selection to be found (absolutely nowhere). The
most different individuals associate one with the
other; the extremes become lost in the mass. Each
vies with the other to maintain his kind ; those
creatures whose appearance shields them from
certain dangers, do not alter this appearance
when they are in an environment quite devoid
of danger. ... If they live in places where
their coats or their hides do not conceal them,
they do not adapt themselves to their surroundings
in any way.

The selection of the most beautiful has been so
exaggerated, that it greatly exceeds the instincts
for beauty in our own race ! As a matter of fact,
the most beautiful creature often couples with the
most debased, and the largest with the smallest.
We almost always see males and females taking
advantage of their first chance meeting, and
manifesting no taste or selectiveness at all. —
Modification through climate and nourishment —
but as a matter of fact unimportant.

There are no intermediate forms. —

The growing evolution of creatures is assumed.
All grounds for this assumption are entirely
lacking. Every type has its limitations : beyond
these evolution cannot carry it.

*

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 57

My general point of view. — First proposition :
Man as a species is not progressing. Higher
specimens are indeed attained ; but they do not
survive. The general level of the species is not
raised.

Second proposition : Man as a species does not
represent any sort of progress compared with any
other animal. The whole of the animal and
plant world does not develop from the lower to
the higher. . . . but all simultaneously, haphazardly,
confusedly, and at variance. The richest and
most complex forms — and the term " higher
type " means no more than this — perish more
easily : only the lowest succeed in maintaining
their apparent imperishableness. The former
are seldom attained, and maintain their superior
position with difficulty ; the latter are compensated
by great fruitfulness. — In the human race, also,
the superior specimens \ the happy cases of evolution,
are the first to perish amid the fluctuations of
chances for and against them. They are exposed
to every form of decadence : they are extreme,
and, on that account alone, already decadents. . . .
The short duration of beauty, of genius, of the
Caesar, is sui generis : such things are not heredi-
tary. The type is inherited, there is nothing

extreme or particularly " happy * about a type

It is not a case of a particular fate, or of the " evil
will " of Nature, but merely of the concept " superior
type " : the higher type is an example of an incom-^
parably greater degree of complexity — a greater
sum of co-ordinated elements : but on this account
disintegration becomes a thousand times more

158 THE WILL TO POWER.

threatening. " Genius " is the sublimest machine
in existence — hence it is the most fragile.

Third proposition : The domestication (culture)
of man does not sink very deep. When it does
sink far below the skin it immediately becomes
degeneration (type : the Christian). The " wild "
man (or, in moral terminology, the evil man)
is a reversion to Nature — and, in a certain sense,
he represents a recovery, a cure from the effects of
"culture." . . .

685.

Anti- Darwin. — What surprises me most on
making a general survey of the great destinies
of man, is that I invariably see the reverse of
what to-day Darwin and his school sees or will
persist in seeing : selection in favour of the
stronger, the better-constituted, and the progress
of the species. Precisely the reverse of this
stares one in the face : the suppression of the
lucky cases, the uselessness of the more highly
constituted types, the inevitable mastery of the
mediocre, and even of those who are below
mediocrity. Unless we are shown some reason
why man is an exception among living creatures,
I incline to the belief that Darwin's school is
everywhere at fault. That will to power, in
which I perceive the ultimate reason and character
of all change, explains why it is that selection is
never in favour of the exceptions and of the lucky
cases : the strongest and happiest natures are
weak when they are confronted with a majority
ruled by organised gregarious instincts and the

I

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 59

fear which possesses the weak. My general
view of the world of values shows that in the
highest values which now sway the destiny of
man, the happy cases among men, the select
specimens do not prevail : but rather the decadent
specimens, — perhaps there is nothing more in-
teresting in the world than this unpleasant

I x spectacle. . . .

Strange as it may seem, the strong always have
to be upheld against the weak ; and the well-
constituted against the ill-constituted, the healthy
against the sick and physiologically botched. If
we drew our morals from reality, they would read
thus : the mediocre are more valuable than the

, exceptional creatures, and the decadent than the

t mediocre ; the will to nonentity prevails over the
will to life — and the general aim now is, in
Christian, Buddhistic, Schopenhauerian phrase-
ology : " It is better not to be than to be."

I protest against this formulating of reality into
a moral : and I loathe Christianity with a deadly
loathing, because it created sublime words and at-
titudes in order to deck a revolting truth with all
the tawdriness of justice, virtue, and godliness. . . .
I see all philosophers and the whole of science
on their knees before a reality which is the reverse
of " the struggle for life," as Darwin and his school
understood it — that is to say, wherever I look,
V I see those prevailing and surviving, who throw
doubt and suspicion upon life and the value of
life. — The error of the Darwinian school became
a problem to me : how can one be so blind as to
make this mistake?

l6o THE WILL TO POWER.

That species show an ascending tendency, is the
most nonsensical assertion that has ever been made:
until now they have only manifested a dead level.
There is nothing whatever to prove that the higher
organisms have developed from the lower. I see
that the lower, owing to their numerical strength,
their craft, and ruse, now preponderate, — and I fail
to see an instance in which an accidental change
produces an advantage, at least not for a very long
period: for it would be necessary to find some
reason why an accidental change should become
so very strong.

I do indeed find the " cruelty of Nature " which
is so often referred to ; but in a different place :
Nature is cruel, but against her lucky and well-
constituted children ; she protects and shelters and
loves the lowly.

In short, the increase of a species' power, as
the result of the preponderance of its particularly
well-constituted and strong specimens, is perhaps
less of a certainty than that it is the result of the
preponderance of its mediocre and lower specimens
... in the case of the latter, we find great fruit-
fulness and permanence : in the case of the former,
the besetting dangers are greater, waste is more
rapid, and decimation is more speedy.

686.

Man as he has appeared up to the present is
the embryo of the man of the future ; all the
formative powers which are to produce the latter,
already lie in the former : and owing to the fact that

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. l6l

they are enormous, the -more promising for the
future the modern individual happens to be, the
more suffering falls to his lot. This is the pro-
foundest concept of suffering. The formative
powers clash. — The isolation of the individual
need not deceive one — as a matter of fact, some
uninterrupted current does actually flow through
all individuals, and does thus unite them. The
fact that they feel themselves isolated, is the most
powerful spur in the process of setting themselves
the loftiest of aims: their search for happiness is the
means which keeps together and moderates the for-
mative powers, and keeps them from being mutually
destructive.

687.

Excessive intellectual strength sets itself new
goals ; it is not in the least satisfied by the com-
mand and the leadership of the inferior world, or
by the preservation of the organism, of the "in-
dividual."

We are more than the individual : we are the
whole chain itself, with the tasks of all the possible
futures of that chain in us.

3. Theory of the Will to Power and of
Valuations.

6SS.

The unitary view of psychology. — We are accus-
tomed to regard the development of a vast number
of forms as compatible with one single origin.

My theory would be : that the will to power

vol. 11. L

1 62 THE WILL TO POWER.

is the primitive motive force out of which all other
motives have been derived ;

That it is exceedingly illuminating to sub-
stitute power for individual " happiness " (after
which every living organism is said to strive) : " It
strives after power, after more power " ; — happiness
is only a symptom of the feeling of power attained,
a consciousness of difference (it does not strive
after happiness : but happiness steps in when the
object is attained, after which the organism has
striven : happiness is an accompanying, not an
actuating factor);

That all motive force is the will to power ; that
there is no other force, either physical, dynamic, or
psychic.

In our science, where the concept cause and
effect is reduced to a relationship of complete
equilibrium, and in which it seems desirable for
the same quantum of force to be found on either
side, all idea of a motive power is absent-, we only
apprehend results, and we call these equal from
the point of view of their content of force. . . .

It is a matter of mere experience that change
never ceases : at bottom we have not the smallest
grounds for assuming that any one particular
change must follow upon any other. On the con-
trary, any state which has been attained would
seem almost forced to maintain itself intact if it
had not within itself a capacity for not desiring to
maintain itself. . . . Spinoza's proposition concern-
ing " self-preservation " ought as a matter of fact to
put a stop to change. But the proposition is false ;
the contrary is true. In all living organisms it can

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 63

be clearly shown that they do everything not to
remain as they are, but to become greater. . . .

689.

" Will to pozver" and causality. — From a psycho-
logical point of view the idea of " cause " is our feel-
ing of power in the act which is called willing — our
concept "effect" is the superstition that this feeling
of power is itself the force which moves things. . . .

A state which accompanies an event and is
already an effect of that event is deemed " suffi-
cient cause " of the latter ; the tense relationship
of our feeling of power (pleasure as the feeling of
power) and of an obstacle being overcome — are
these things illusions?

If we translate the notion " cause " back into
the only sphere which is known to us, and out of
which we have taken it, we cannot imagine any
change in which the will to power is not inherent.
We do not know how to account for any change
which is not a trespassing of one power on another.

Mechanics only show us the results, and then
only in images (movement is a figure of speech);
gravitation itself has no mechanical cause, because
it is itself the first cause of mechanical results.

The will to accumulate force is confined to the
phenomenon of life, to nourishment, to procreation,
to inheritance, to society, states, customs, authority.
Should we not be allowed to assume that this will
is the motive power also of chemistry ? — and of
the cosmic order?

Not only conservation of energy, but the mini-
mum amount of waste ; so that the only reality is

.lb.

(

it*

164 THE WILL TO POWER.

this : the will of every centre of power to become
stronger — not self-preservation, but the desire to
appropriate, to become master, to become more,
to become stronger.

Is the fact that science is possible a proof of the
principle of causation — " From like causes, like
effects " — " A permanent law of things " — " In-
variable order " ? Because something is calculable,
is it therefore on that account necessary ?

If something happens thus, and thus only, it is
not the manifestation of a " principle," of a " law,"
of " order." What happens is that certain quanta
of power begin to operate, and their essence is
to exercise their power over all other quanta of
power. Can we assume the existence of a striving
after power without a feeling of pleasure and pain,
i.e. without the sensation of an increase or a de-
crease of power ? Is mechanism only a language
of signs for the concealed fact of a world of fight-
ing and conquering quanta of will-power? All
mechanical first-principles, matter, atoms, weight,

> pressure, and repulsion, are not facts in themselves,
but interpretations arrived at with the help of
psychical fictions.

Life, which is our best known form of being, is
altogether " will to the accumulation of strength " —
all the processes of life hinge on this : everything
aims, not at preservation, but at accretion and
accumulation. Life as an individual case (a
hypothesis which may be applied to existence in
general) strives after the maximum feeling of
power ; life is essentially a striving after more power ;
striving itself is only a straining after more power ;

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 65

the most fundamental and innermost thing of all is
this will. (Mechanism is merely the semeiotics of
the results.)

690.

The thing which is the cause of the existence
of development cannot in the course of investiga-
tion be found above development ; it should neither
be regarded as " evolving " nor as evolved . . .
the " will to power " cannot have been evolved.

691.

What is the relation of the whole of the organic
process towards the rest of nature? — Here the
J fundamental will reveals itself.

692.

Is the " will to power " a kind of will, or is it
j identical with the concept will ? Is it equivalent
to desiring or commanding ; is it the will which
Schopenhauer says is the essence of things ?

My proposition is that the will of psychologists
hitherto has been an unjustifiable generalisation,
and that there is no such thing as this sort of will,
that instead of the development of one will into
several forms being taken as a fact, the character
of will has been cancelled owing to the fact that
its content, its " whither," was subtracted from it :
in Schopenhauer this is so in the highest degree ;
what he calls " will " is merely an empty word.
There is even less plausibility in the will to live :
for life is simply one of the manifestations of the
will to power ; it is quite arbitrary and ridiculous

ftV

1 66 THE WILL TO POWER.

to suggest that everything is striving to enter into
this particular form of the will to power.

693.

If the innermost essence of existence is the will
to power ; if happiness is every increase of power,
and 'unhappiness the feeling of not being able to
resist, of not being able to become master : may
we not then postulate happiness and pain as
cardinal facts ? Is will possible without these two
oscillations of yea and nay? But who feels
happiness ? . . . Who will have power ? . . .
Nonsensical question I If the essence of all things
is itself will to power, and consequently the
ability to feel pleasure and pain ! Albeit : con-
trasts and obstacles are necessary, therefore also,
relatively, units which trespass on one another.

694.

According to the obstacles which a force seeks
with a view of overcoming them, the measure of
the failure and the fatality thus provoked must
increase : and in so far as every force can only
manifest itself against some thing that opposes it,
an element of unhappiness is necessarily inherent
in every action. But this pain acts as a greater
incitement to life, and increases the will to power.

695.

If pleasure and pain are related to the feeling
ot power, life would have to represent such an
increase in power that the difference, the " plus,"

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 167

would have to enter consciousness. ... A dead
level of power, if maintained, would have to
measure its happiness in relation to depreciations
of that level, i.e. in relation to states of un happi-
ness and not of happiness. . . . The will to an
increase lies in the essence of happiness : that
power is enhanced, and that this difference becomes
conscious.

In a state of decadence after a certain time the
opposite difference becomes conscious, that is
decrease : the memory of former strong moments
depresses the present feelings of happiness — in
this state comparison reduces happiness.

696.

It is not the satisfaction of the will which is
the cause of happiness (to this superficial theory
I am more particularly opposed — this absurd
psychological forgery in regard to the most simple
things), but it is that the will is always striving to
overcome that which stands in its way. The feel-
ing of happiness lies precisely in the discontented-
ness of the will, in the fact that without opponents
and obstacles it is never satisfied. " The happy
man " : a gregarious ideal.

697.

The normal discontent of our instincts — for
instance, of the instinct of hunger, of sex, of move-
ment— contains nothing which is in itself depress-
ing; it rather provokes the feeling of life, and,
whatever the pessimists may say to us, like all

1 68 THE WILL TO POWER.

the rhythms of small and irritating stimuli, it
strengthens. Instead of this discontent making us
sick of life, it is rather the great stimulus to life.

(Pleasure might even perhaps be characterised
as the rhythm of small and painful stimuli.)

698.

Kant says : " These lines of Count Verri's (SulF
indole del piacere e del dolore \ 178 1) I confirm
with absolute certainty : ' II solo principio motore
dell' uomo e il dolore. II dolore precede ogni
piacere. II piacere non e un essere positivo.'" #

699.

Pain is something different from pleasure — I
mean it is not the latter's opposite.

If the essence of pleasure has been aptly char-
acterised as the feeling of increased power (that is
to say, as a feeling of difference which presupposes
comparison), that does not define the nature of
pain. The false contrasts which the people, and
consequently the language, believes in, are always
dangerous fetters which impede the march of truth.
There are even cases where a kind of pleasure is
conditioned by a certain rhythmic sequence of
small, painful stimuli : in this way a very rapid
growth of the feeling of power and of the feeling

* On the Nature of Pleasure a?id Pain. " The only motive
force of man is pain. Pain precedes every pleasure.
Pleasure is not a positive thing." — Tr.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 69

of pleasure is attained. This is the case, for
instance, in tickling, also in the sexual tickling
which accompanies the coitus : here we see pain
acting as the ingredient of happiness. It seems
to be a small hindrance which is overcome, followed
immediately by another small hindrance which
once again is overcome — this play of resistance
and resistance overcome is the greatest excitant
of that complete feeling of overflowing and surplus
power which constitutes the essence of happiness.

The converse, which would be an increase in
the feeling of pain through small intercalated
pleasurable stimuli, does not exist : pleasure and
pain are not opposites.

Pain is undoubtedly an intellectual process in
which a judgment is inherent — the judgment
" harmful," in which long experience is epitomised.
There is no such thing as pain in itself. It is not
the wound that hurts, it is the experience of the
harmful results a wound may have for the whole
organism, which here speaks in this deeply moving
way, and is called pain. (In the case of deleterious
influences which were unknown to ancient man,
as, for instance, those residing in the new combina-
tion of poisonous chemicals, the hint from pain is
lacking, and we are lost.)

That which is quite peculiar in pain is the pro-
longed disturbance, the quivering subsequent to a
terrible shock in the ganglia of the nervous system.
As a matter of fact, nobody suffers from the cause
of pain (from any sort of injury, for instance),
but from the protracted disturbance of his equi-
librium which follows upon the shock. Pain is a

170 THE WILL TO POWER.

disease of the cerebral centres — pleasure is no
disease at all.

The fact that pain may be the cause of reflex
actions has appearances and even philosophical
prejudice in its favour. But in very sudden
accidents, if we observe closely, we find that the
reflex action occurs appreciably earlier than the
feeling of pain. I should be in a bad way when
I stumbled if I had to wait until the fact had
struck the bell of my consciousness, and until a
hint of what I had to do had been telegraphed
back to me. On the contrary, what I notice as
clearly as possible is, that first, in order to avoid
a fall, reflex action on the part of my foot takes
place, and then, after a certain measurable space of
time, there follows quite suddenly a kind of painful
wave in my forehead. Nobody, then, reacts to
pain. Pain is subsequently projected into the
wounded quarter — but the essence of this local
pain is nevertheless not the expression of a kind
of local wound : it is merely a local sign, the
strength and nature of which is in keeping with
the severity of the wound, and of which the nerve
centres have taken note. The fact that as the
result of this shock the muscular power of the
organism is materially reduced, does not prove in
any way that the essence of pain is to be sought
in the lowering of the feeling of power.

Once more let me repeat : nobody reacts to
pain : pain is no " cause " of action. Pain itself
is a reaction ; the reflex movement is another
and earlier process — both originate at different
points. . . .

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 171

700.

The message of pain : in itself pain does not
announce that which has been momentarily
damaged, but the significance of this damage for
the individual as a whole.

Are we to suppose that there are any pains
which " the species " feel, and which the individual
does not?

701.

" The sum of unhappiness outweighs the sum .
of happiness : consequently it were better that the I
world did not exist " — " The world is something I
which from a rational standpoint it were better
did not exist, because it occasions more pain than
pleasure to the feeling subject " — this futile gossip /
now calls itself pessimism !

Pleasure and pain are accompanying factors, not
causes ; they are second-rate valuations derived
from a dominating value, — they are one with the
feeling " useful," " harmful," and therefore they are
absolutely fugitive and relative. For in regard to
all utility and harmfulness there are a hundred
different ways of asking " what for ? "

I despise this pessimism of sensitiveness : it is
in itself a sign of profoundly impoverished life.

702.

Man does not seek happiness and does not avoid
unhappiness. Everybody knows the famous pre-
judices I here contradict. Pleasure and pain are
mere results, mere accompanying phenomena — that
which every man, which every tiny particle of a

172 THE WILL TO POWER.

living organism will have, is an increase of power.
In striving after this, pleasure and pain are en-
countered ; it is owing to that will that the organism
seeks opposition and requires that which stands in
its way. . . . Pain as the hindrance of its will to
power is therefore a normal feature, a natural in-
gredient of every organic phenomenon ; man does
not avoid it, on the contrary, he is constantly in
need of it : every triumph, every feeling of pleasure,
every event presupposes an obstacle overcome.

Let us take the simplest case, that of primitive
nourishment ; the protoplasm extends its pseudo-
podia in order to seek for that which resists it, —
it does not do so out of hunger, but owing to its
will to power. Then it makes the attempt to over-
come, to appropriate, and to incorporate that with
which it comes into contact — what people call
" nourishment " is merely a derivative, a utilitarian
application, of the primordial will to become
stronger.

Pain is so far from acting as a diminution of
our feeling of power, that it actually forms in the
majority of cases a spur to this feeling, — the
obstacle is the stimulus of the will to power.

703.

Pain has been confounded with one of its
subdivisions, which is exhaustion : the latter does
indeed represent a profound reduction and lowering
of the will to power, a material loss of strength
— that is to say, there is {a) pain as the stimulus
to an increase or power, and (b) pain following

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 73

upon an expenditure of power ; in the first case it
is a spur, in the second it is the outcome of ex-
cessive spurring. . . . The inability to resist is
proper to the latter form of pain : the provocation
of that which resists is proper to the former. . . .
The only happiness which is to be felt in the state
of exhaustion is that of going to sleep ; in the other
case, happiness means triumph. . . . The great
confusion of psychologists consisted in the fact
that they did not keep these two kinds of happi-
ness— that of falling asleep, and that of triumph
— sufficiently apart. Exhausted people will have
repose, slackened limbs, peace and quiet — and these
things constitute the bliss of Nihilistic religions and
philosophies ; the wealthy in vital strength, the
active, want triumph, defeated opponents, and the
extension of their feeling of power over ever wider
regions. Every healthy function of the organism
has this need, — and the whole organism constitutes
an intricate complexity of systems struggling for
the increase of the feeling of power. . . .

704.

How is it that the fundamental article of faith
in all psychologies is a piece of most outrageous con-
tortion and fabrication ? "Man strives after happi-
ness," for instance — how much of this is true ? In
order to understand what life is, and what kind of
striving and tenseness life contains, the formula
should hold good not only of trees and plants, but
of animals also. " What does the plant strive
after?" — But here we have already invented a

174 THE WILL TO POWER.

false entity which does not exist, — concealing and
denying the fact of an infinitely variegated growth,
with individual and semi-individual starting-points,
if we give it the clumsy title " plant " as if it were
a unit. It is very obvious that the ultimate and
smallest " individuals " cannot be understood in the
sense of metaphysical individuals or atoms ; their
sphere of power is continually shifting its ground :
but with all these changes, can it be said that any
of them strives after happiness ? — All this expand-
ing, this incorporation and growth, is a search for
resistance; movement is essentially related to
states of pain: the driving power here must
represent some other desire if it. leads to such
continual willing and seeking of pain. — To what
end do the trees of a virgin forest contend with
each other ? " For happiness " ? — For power ! . . .
Man is now master of the forces of nature, and
master too of his own wild and unbridled feelings
(the passions have followed suit, and have learned
to become useful) — in comparison with primeval
man, the man of to-day represents an enormous
quantum of power, but not an increase in happi-
ness ! How can one maintain, then, that he has
striven after happiness ? . .

705.

But while I say this I see above me, and below
the stars, the glittering rat's-tail of errors which
hitherto has represented the greatest inspiration of
man : " All happiness is the result of virtue all
virtue is the result of free will " !

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 75

Let us transvalue the values : all capacity is the
outcome of a happy organisation, all freedom is the
outcome of capacity (freedom understood here as /
facility in self-direction. Every artist will under-
stand me).

706.

" The value of life." — Every life stands by itself;
all existence must be justified, and not only life,
— the justifying principle must be one through
which life itself speaks.

Life is only a means to something: it is the
expression of the forms of growth in power.

707.

The " conscious world " cannot be a starting-
point for valuing : an " objective " valuation is
necessary.

In comparison with the enormous and compli- J
cated antagonistic processes which the collective life
of every organism represents, its conscious world
of feelings, intentions, and valuations, is only a small
slice. We have absolutely no right to postulate
this particle of consciousness as the object, the
wherefore, of the collective phenomena of life : the
attainment of consciousness is obviously only an
additional means to the unfolding of life and to
the extension of its power. That is why it is a
piece of childish simplicity to set up happiness, or
intellectuality, or morality, or any other individual
sphere of consciousness, as the highest value : and
maybe to justify " the world " with it.

I ?6 THE WILL TO POWER.

This is my fundamental objection to all philo-
sophical and moral cosmologies and theologies, to
all wherefores and highest values that have appeared
in philosophies and philosophic religions hitherto.
A kind of means is misunderstood as the object
itself : conversely life and its growth of power were
debased to a means.

If we wished to postulate an adequate object of
life it would not necessarily be related in any way
with the category of conscious life; it would
require rather to explain conscious life as a mere
means to itself. . . .

The " denial of life " regarded as the object of
life, the object of evolution ! Existence — a piece of
tremendous stupidity ! Any such mad interpreta-
tion is only the outcome of life's being measured
by the factors of consciousness (pleasure and pain,
good and evil). Here the means are made to stand
against the end — the " unholy," absurd, and, above
all, disagreeable means : how can the end be any
use when it requires such means ? But where the
fault lies is here — instead of looking for the end
which would explain the necessity of such means,
we posited an end from the start which actually
excludes such means, i.e. we made a desideratum
in regard to certain means (especially pleasurable,
rational, and virtuous) into a rule, and then only
did we decide what end would be desirable. . . .

Where the fundamental fault lies is in the fact
that, instead of regarding consciousness as an
instrument and an isolated phenomenon of life in
general, we made it a standard, the highest value
in life : it is the faulty standpoint of a parte ad

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 77

totum, — and that is why all philosophers are
instinctively seeking at the present day for a col-
lective consciousness, a thing that lives and wills
consciously with all that happens, a " Spirit," a
" God." But they must be told that it is precisely
thus that life is converted into a monster ; that a
" God " and a general sensorium would necessarily
be something on whose account the whole of
existence would have to be condemned. . . .
Our greatest relief came when we eliminated the
general consciousness which postulates ends and
means — in this way we ceased from being neces-
sarily pessimists. . . . Our greatest indictment
of life was the existence of God.

708.

Concerning the value of "Becoming." — If the
movement of the world really tended to reach a
final state, that state would already have been
reached. The only fundamental fact, however, is
that it does not tend to reach a final state : and
every philosophy and scientific hypothesis (eg.
materialism) according to which such a final state
is necessary, is refuted by this fundamental fact.

I should like to have a concept of the world
which does justice to this fact. Becoming ought
to be explained without having recourse to such
final designs. Becoming must appear justified at
every instant (or it must defy all valuation : which
has unity as its end) ; the present must not under
any circumstances be justified by a future, nor
must the past be justified for the sake of the

VOL. II. M

178 THE WILL TO POWER.

present. " Necessity " must not be interpreted
in the form of a prevailing and ruling collective
force or as a prime motor ; and still less as the
necessary cause of some valuable result. But to
this end it is necessary to deny a collective
consciousness for Becoming, — a " God," in order
that life may not be veiled under the shadow of a
being who feels and knows as we do and yet wills
nothing : " God " is useless if he wants nothing ;
and if he do want something, this presupposes a
general sum of suffering and irrationality which
lowers the general value of Becoming. Fortun-
ately any such general power is lacking (a suffering
God overlooking everything, a general sensorium
and ubiquitous Spirit, would be the greatest indict-
ment of existence).

Strictly speaking nothing of the nature of
Being must be allowed to remain, — because in
that case Becoming loses its value and gets to be
sheer and superfluous nonsense.

The next question, then, is : how did the
illusion Being originate (why was it obliged to
originate) ;

Likewise : how was it that all valuations based
upon the hypothesis that there was such a thing
as Being came to be depreciated.

But in this way we have recognised that this
hypothesis concerning Being is the source of all
the calumny that has been directed against the
world (the " Better world," the " True world " the
" World Beyond," the " Thing-in-itself ").

(i) Becoming has no final state, it does not
/^ tend towards stability.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. 1 79

(2) Becoming is not a state of appearance;

the world of Being is probably only-
appearance.

(3) Becoming is of precisely the same value

at every instant; the sum of its value
always remains equal : expressed other-
wise, it has no value ; for that according
to which it might be measured, and ii
regard to which the word value might
have some sense, is entirely lacking.
The collective value of the world defies
valuation ; for this reason philosophical
pessimism belongs to the order of farces.

709.

We should not make our little desiderata the
judges of existence ! Neither should we make
culminating evolutionary forms {e.g. mind) the
" absolute " which stands behind evolution !

710.

Our knowledge has become scientific to the
extent in which it has been able to make use of
number and measure. It might be worth while
to try and see whether a scientific order of values
might not be constructed according to a scale of
numbers and measures representing energy. . . .
All other values are matters of prejudice, simplicity,
and misunderstanding. They may all be reduced
to that scale of numbers and measures represent-
ing energy. The ascent in this scale would

180 THE WILL TO POWER.

represent an increase of value, the descent a
diminution.

But here appearance and prejudice are against
one (moral values are only apparent values com-
pared with those which are physiological).

711.

Why the standpoint of " value " lapses : —

Because in the " whole process of the universe "
the work of mankind does not come under considera-
tion ; because a general process (viewed in the
light of a system) does not exist.

Because there is no such thing as a whole ;
because no depreciation of human existence or
human aims can be made in regard to something
that does not exist.

Because " necessity," " causality," " design," are
merely useful semblances.

Because the aim is not " the increase of the
sphere of consciousness," but the increase of power ;
in which increase the utility of consciousness is
also contained ; and the same holds good of
pleasure and pain.

Because a mere means must not be elevated to
the highest criterion of value (such as states of
consciousness like pleasure and pain, if con-
sciousness is in itself only a means).

Because the world is not an organism at all,
but a thing of chaos ; because the development of
" intellectuality " is only a means tending relatively
I to extend the duration of an organisation.

Because all " desirability " has no sense in
regard to the general character of existence.

THE WILL TO POWER IN NATURE. l8l

712.

" God " is the culminating moment : life is an
eternal process of deifying and undeifying. But
withal there is no zenith of values, but only a
zenith of power.

Absolute exclusion of mechanical and material-
istic interpretations : they are both only expres-
sions of inferior states, of emotions deprived of all
spirit (of the " will to power ").

The retrograde movement from the zenith of
development (the intellectualisation of power on
some slave-infected soil) may be shown to be the
result of the highest degree of energy turning
against itself, once it no longer has anything to
organise, and utilising its power in order to
disorganise.

(a) The ever-increasing suppression of societies,
and the latter's subjection by a smaller number of
stronger individuals.

(b) The ever-increasing suppression of the
privileged and the strong, hence the rise of
democracy, and ultimately of anarchy, in the
elements.

713.

Value is the highest amount of power that a/
man can assimilate — a man, not mankind ! Man-|
kind is much more of a means than an end. It
is a question of type : mankind is merely the
experimental material ; it is the overflow of the I
ill-constituted — a field of ruins. I

1 82 THE WILL TO POWER.

714-

Words relating to values are merely banners
planted on those spots where a new blessedness
was discovered — a new feeling.

715.

The standpoint of " value " is the same as that
of the conditions of preservation and enhancement,
in regard to complex creatures of relative stability
appearing in the course of evolution.

There are no such things as lasting and
ultimate entities, no atoms, no monads : here also
" permanence " was first introduced by ourselves
(from practical, utilitarian, and other motives).

" The forms that rule " ; the sphere of the sub-
jugated is continually extended ; or it decreases
or increases according to the conditions (nourish-
ment) being either favourable or unfavourable.

" Value " is essentially the standpoint for the
increase or decrease of these dominating centres
(pluralities in any case ; for " unity " cannot be
observed anywhere in the nature of development).

The means of expression afforded by language
are useless for the purpose of conveying any facts
concerning " development " : the need of positing
a rougher world of stable existences and things
forms part of our eternal desire for pi'eservation.
We may speak of atoms and monads in a relative
sense : and this is certain, that the smallest world
is the most stable world. . . . There is no such thing
as will: there are only punctuations of will, which are
constantly increasing and decreasing their power.

III.

THE WILL TO POWER AS EXEMPLI-
FIED IN SOCIETY AND THE IN-
DIVIDUAL.

i. Society and the State.

716.

WE take it as a principle that only individuals feel
any responsibility. Corporations are invented to
do what the individual has not the courage to do.
For this reason all communities are vastly more
upright and instructive, as regards the nature of
man, than the individual who is too cowardly to
have the courage of his own desires.

All altruism is the prudence of the private man :
societies are not mutually altruistic. The com-
mandment, "Thou shalt love thy next-door
neighbour," has never been extended to thy
neighbour in general. Rather what Manu says is
probably truer : " We must conceive of all the
States on our own frontier, and their allies, as being
hostile, and for the same reason we must consider
all of their neighbours as being friendly to us."

The study of society is invaluable, because man
in society is far more childlike than man in-

183

K

184 THE WILL TO POWER.

dividually. Society has never regarded virtue as
anything else than as a means to strength, power,
and order. Manu's words again are simple and
dignified : " Virtue could hardly rely on her own
strength alone. Really it is only the fear of
punishment that keeps men in their limits, and
leaves every one in peaceful possession of his own."

717.

The State, or unmorality organised, is from
within — the police, the penal code, status, com-
merce, and the family ; and from without, the will
to war, to power, to conquest and revenge.

A multitude will do things an individual will
not, because of the division of responsibility, of
command and execution ; because the virtues of
obedience, duty, patriotism, and local sentiment
are all introduced ; because feelings of pride,
severity, strength, hate, and revenge — in short, all
typical traits are upheld, and these are character-
istics utterly alien to the herd- man.

718.

You haven't, any of you, the courage either to
kill or to flog a man. But the huge machinery of
the State quells the individual and makes him de-
cline to be answerable for his own deed (obedience,
loyalty, etc.).

Everything that a man does in the service of
the State is against his own nature. Similarly,
everything he learns in view of future service of the

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 1 85

State. This result is obtained through division of
labour (so that responsibility is subdivided too) : —

The legislator — and he who fufils the law.

The teacher of discipline — and those who have
grown hard and severe under discipline.

719.

A division of labour among the emotions exists
inside society, making individuals and classes
produce an imperfect, but more useful, kind of
soul. Observe how every type in society has
become atrophied with regard to certain emotions
with the view of fostering and accentuating other
emotions.

Morality may be thus justified : —

Economically, — as aiming at the greatest possible
use of all individual power, with the view of pre-
venting the waste of exceptional natures.

^Esthetically, — as the formation of fixed types,
and the pleasure in one's own.

Politically, — as the art of bearing with the
severe divergencies of the degrees of power in
society.

Psychologically, — as an imaginary preference for
the bungled and the mediocre, in order to preserve
the weak.

720.

Man has one terrible and fundamental wish ; he
desires power, and this impulse, which is called
freedom, must be the longest restrained. Hence

1 86 THE WILL TO POWER.

ethics has instinctively aimed at such an education
as shall restrain the desire for power ; thus our
morality slanders the would-be tyrant, and glorifies
charity, patriotism, and the ambition of the herd.

721.

Impotence to power, — how it disguises itself
and plays the hypocrite, as obedience, subordina-
tion, the pride of duty and morality, submission,
devotion, love (the idolisation and apotheosis of
the commander is a kind of compensation, and
indirect self-enhancement). It veils itself further
under fatalism and resignation, objectivity, self-
tyranny, stoicism, asceticism, self-abnegation,
hallowing. Other disguises are : criticism, pessim-
ism, indignation, susceptibility, " beautiful soul,"
virtue, self- deification, philosophic detachment,
freedom from contact with the world (the realisa-
tion of impotence disguises itself as disdain).

There is a universal need to exercise some kind
of power, or to create for one's self the appearance
of some power, if only temporarily, in the form of
intoxication.

There are men who desire power simply for the
sake of the happiness it will bring ; these belong
chiefly to political parties. Other men have the
same yearning, even when power means visible
disadvantages, the sacrifice of their happiness, and
well-being; they are the ambitious. Other men,
again, are only like dogs in a manger, and will have
i power only to prevent its falling into the hands
of others on whom they would then be dependent.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 1 87

722.

If there be justice and equality before the law,
what would thereby be abolished ? — Suspense,
enmity, hatred. But it is a mistake to think that
you thereby increase happiness ; for the Corsicans
rejoice in more happiness than the Continentals.

723.

Reciprocity and the expectation of a reward is
one of the most seductive forms of the devaluation
of mankind. It involves that equality which de-
preciates any gulf as immoral.

724.

Utility is entirely dependent upon the object to
be attained, — the wherefore ? And this wherefore,
this purpose, is again dependent upon the degree
of power. Utilitarianism is not, therefore, a funda-
mental doctrine ; it is only a story of sequels, and
cannot be made obligatory for all.

725.

Of old, the State was regarded theoretically as
a utilitarian institution ; it has now become so
in a practical sense. The time of kings has gone /
by, because people are no longer worthy of them.
They do not wish to see the symbol of their ideal
in a king, but only a means to their own ends.
That's the whole truth.

\l

1 88 THE WILL TO POWER.

726.

I am trying to grasp the absolute sense of the
communal standard of judgment and valuation,
naturally without any intention of deducing morals.

The degree of psychological falsity and dense-
ness required in order to sanctify the emotions
essential to preservation and expansion of power,
y and to create a good conscience for them.

The degree of stupidity required in order that
general rules and values may remain possible
(including education, formation of culture, and
training).

The degree of inquisitiveness, suspicion, and in-
tolerance required in order to deal with exceptions,
to suppress them as criminals, and thus to give
them bad consciences, and to make them sick
with their own singularity.

727

Morality is essentially a shield, a means of
defence ; and, in so far, it is a sign of the im-
perfectly developed man (he is still in armour;
he is still stoical).

The fully developed man is above all provided
with weapons : he is a man who attacks.

The weapons of war are converted into weapons
of peace (out of scales and carapaces grow feathers
and hair).

728.

The very notion, " living organism," implies that
there must be growth, — that there must be a

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 1 89

striving after an extension of power, and therefore
a process of absorption of other forces. Under the
drowsiness brought on by moral narcotics, people
speak of the right of the individual to defend himself;
on the same principle one might speak of his right
to attack : for both — and the latter more than the
former — are necessities where all living organisms
are concerned : aggressive and defensive egoism
are not questions of choice or even of " free will,"
but they are fatalities of life itself. ^

In this respect it is immaterial whether one
have an individual, a living body, or " an ad-
vancing society " in view. The right to punish (or
society's means of defence) has been arrived at
only through a misuse of the word " right " : a
right is acquired only by contract, — but self-
defence and self-preservation do not stand upon
the basis of a contract. A people ought at least,
with quite as much justification, to be able to regard
its lust of power, either in arms, commerce, trade,
or colonisation, as a right — the right of growth,
perhaps. . . . When the instincts of a society
ultimately make it give up war and renounce
conquest, it is decadent : it is ripe for democracy
and the rule of shopkeepers. In the majority of
cases, it is true, assurances of peace are merely
stupefying draughts.

729.

The maintenance of the military State is the
last means of adhering to the great tradition of
the past ; or, where it has been lost, to revive it.
By means of it the superior or strong type of

190 THE WILL TO POWER.

man is preserved, and all institutions and ideas
which perpetuate enmity and order of rank in
States, such as national feeling, protective tariffs,
etc., may on that account seem justified.

730.

In order that a thing may last longer than a
person (that is to say, in order that a work may
outlive the individual who has created it), all
manner of limitations and prejudices must be
imposed upon people. But how ? By means of
love, reverence, gratitude towards the person who
created the work, or by means of the thought
that our ancestors fought for it, or by virtue of
the feeling that the safety of our descendants will
be secured if we uphold the work — for instance,
the polls. Morality is essentially the means of
making something survive the individual, because
it makes him of necessity a slave. Obviously
the aspect from above is different from the aspect
from below, and will lead to quite different inter-
pretations. How is organised power maintained}
— By the fact that countless generations sacrifice
themselves to its cause.

731.

Marriage, property, speech, tradition, race,
family, people, and State, are each links in a chain
— separate parts which have a more or less high
or low origin. Economically they are justified
by the surplus derived from the advantages of
uninterrupted work and multiple production, as

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. I91

weighed against the disadvantages of greater
expense in barter and the difficulty of making
things last. (The working parts are multiplied,
and yet remain largely idle. Hence the cost of
producing them is greater, and the cost of main-
taining them by no means inconsiderable.) The
advantage consists in avoiding interruption and
incident loss. Nothing is more expensive than
a start. " The higher the standard of living, the
greater will be the expense of maintenance,
nourishment, and propagation, as also the risk « "• -
and the probability of an utter fall on reaching
the summit."

732.

In bourgeois marriages, naturally in the best
sense of the word marriage, there is no question
whatsoever of love any more than there is of
money. For on love no institution can be
founded. The whole matter consists in society
giving leave to two persons to satisfy their sexual
desires under conditions obviously designed to
safeguard social order. Of course there must be '
a certain attraction between the parties and a
vast amount of good nature, patience, compati-
bility, and charity in any such contract. But the
word love should not be misused as regards such . y
a union. For two lovers, in the real and strong
meaning of the word, the satisfaction of sexual
desire is unessential ; it is a mere symbol. For
the one side, as I have already said, it is a symbol <-—*
of unqualified submission : for the other, a sign
of condescension — a sign of the appropriation of

192 THE WILL TO POWER.

property. Marriage, as understood by the real
old nobility, meant the breeding forth of the race
(but are there any nobles nowadays? Quceritur},
— that is to say, the maintenance of a fixed definite
type of ruler, for which object husband and wife
were sacrificed. Naturally the first consideration
here had nothing to do with love ; on the con-
trary ! It did not even presuppose that mutual
sympathy which is the sine qua non of the bour-
geois marriage. The prime consideration was the
interest of the race, and in the second place
came the interest of a particular class. But in
the face of the coldness and rigour and calculating
lucidity of such a noble concept of marriage as
prevailed among every healthy aristocracy, like
that of ancient Athens, and even of Europe
during the eighteenth century, we warm-blooded
animals, with our miserably oversensitive hearts,
we " moderns," cannot restrain a slight shudder.
That is why love as a passion, in the big meaning
of this word, was invented for, and in, an aristo-
cratic community — where convention and abstin-
ence are most severe.

733-

Concerning the future of marriage. — A super-
tax on inherited property, a longer term of
military service for bachelors of a certain mini-
mum age within the community.

Privileges of all sorts for fathers who lavish
boys upon the world, and perhaps plural votes
as well.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 193

A medical certificate as a condition of any
marriage, endorsed by the parochial authorities,
in which a series of questions addressed to the
parties and the medical officers must be answered
(" family histories ").

As a counter-agent to prostitution, or as its
ennoblement, I would recommend leasehold
marriages (to last for a term of years or months),
with adequate provision for the children.

Every marriage to be warranted and sanctioned
by a certain number of good men and true, of
the parish, as a parochial obligation.

734.

Another commandment of philanthropy. — There
are cases where to have a child would be a crime
— for example, for chronic invalids and extreme
neurasthenics. These people should be converted
to chastity, and for this purpose the music of L^'
Parsifal might at all events be tried. For Parsifal
himself, that born fool, had ample reasons for not
desiring to propagate. Unfortunately, however,
one of the regular symptoms of exhausted stock
is the inability to exercise any self-restraint in the
presence of stimuli, and the tendency to respond
to the smallest sexual attraction. It would be
quite a mistake, for instance, to think of Leopardi
as a chaste man. In such cases the priest and
moralist play a hopeless game : it would be far
better to send for the apothecary. Lastly, society
here has a positive duty to fulfil, and of all the
demands that are made on it, there are few more

VOL. 11. N

iS

194 THE WILL TO POWER.

urgent and necessary than this one. Society as
the trustee of life, is responsible to life for every
botched life that comes into existence, and as it
has to atone for such lives, it ought consequently
to make it impossible for them ever to see the light

, of day : it should in many cases actually prevent
the act of procreation, and may, without any
regard for rank, descent, or intellect, hold in
readiness the most rigorous forms of compulsion
and restriction, and, under certain circumstances,
have recourse to castration. The Mosaic law,
" Thou shalt do no murder," is a piece of in-
genuous puerility compared with the earnestness
of this forbidding of life to decadents, " Thou shalt
not beget " ! ! ! . . . For life itself recognises no
solidarity or equality of rights between the healthy
and unhealthy parts of an organism. The latter
must at all cost be eliminated^ lest the whole fall
to pieces. Compassion for decadents, equal rights

\ for the physiologically botched — this would be
the very pinnacle of immorality, it would be
setting up Nature's most formidable opponent as
morality itself!

735-

There are some delicate and morbid natures,
the so-called idealists, who can never under any
circumstances rise above a coarse, immature crime :
yet it is the great justification of their anaemic
little existence, it is the small requital for their
lives of cowardice and falsehood to have been for
one instant at least — strong. But they generally
collapse after such an act.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 195

736.

In our civilised world we seldom hear of any
but the bloodless, trembling criminal, overwhelmed
by the curse and contempt of society, doubting
even himself, and always belittling and belying
his deeds — a misbegotten sort of criminal ; that
is why we are opposed to the idea that all great
men have been criminals (only in the grand style,
and neither petty nor pitiful), that crime must be
inherent in greatness (this at any rate is the
unanimous verdict of all those students of human
nature who have sounded the deepest waters of
great souls). To feel one's self adrift from all
questions of ancestry, conscience, and duty — this
is the danger with which every great man is
confronted. Yet this is precisely what he desires :
he desires the great goal, and consequently the
means thereto.

737.

In times when man is led by reward and
punishment, the class of man which the legislator
has in view is still of a low and primitive type :
he is treated as one treats a child. In our latter-
day culture, general degeneracy removes all sense
from reward and punishment. This determina-
tion of action by the prospect of reward and
punishment presupposes young, strong, and
vigorous races. In effete races impulses are so
irrepressible that a mere idea has no force what-
ever. Inability to offer any resistance to a stimulus,
and the feeling that one must react to it: this

[96 THE WILL TO POWER.

excessive susceptibility of decadents makes all
such systems of punishment and reform altogether
senseless.

*

The idea " amelioration " presupposes a normal
and strong creature whose action must in some
way be balanced or cancelled if he is not to be
lost and turned into an enemy of the community.

738.

The effect of prohibition. — Every power which
forbids and which knows how to excite fear in
the person forbidden creates a guilty conscience.
(That is to say, a person has a certain desire but
is conscious of the danger of gratifying it, and is
consequently forced to be secretive, underhand,
and cautious.) Thus any prohibition deteriorates
the character of those who do not willingly
submit themselves to it, but are constrained
thereto.

739-

"Punishment and reward" — These two things
stand or fall together. Nowadays no one will
accept a reward or acknowledge that any authority
should have the power to punish. Warfare has
been reformed. We have a desire : it meets with
opposition : we then see that we shall most easily
obtain it by coming to some agreement — by draw-
ing up a contract. In modern society where
every one has given his assent to a certain con-

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 197

tract, the criminal is a man who breaks that
contract. This at least is a clear concept. But
in that case, anarchists and enemies of social
order could not be tolerated.

740.

Crimes belong to the category of revolt against
the social system. A rebel is not punished, he
is simply suppressed. He may be an utterly
contemptible and pitiful creature ; but there is
nothing intrinsically despicable about rebellion —
in fact, in our particular society revolt is far from
being disgraceful. There are cases in which a
rebel deserves honour precisely because he is
conscious of certain elements in society which
cry aloud for hostility ; for such a man rouses us
from our slumbers. When a criminal commits
but one crime against a particular person, it does
not alter the fact that all his instincts urge him
to make a stand against the whole social system.
His isolated act is merely a symptom.

The idea of punishment ought to be reduced
to the concept of the suppression of revolt, a
weapon against the vanquished (by means of long
or short terms of imprisonment). But punish-
ment should not be associated in any way with
contempt. A criminal is at all events a man who
has set his life, his honour, his freedom at stake ;
he is therefore a man of courage. Neither should
punishment be regarded as penance or retribution,
as though there were some recognised rate of
exchange between crime and punishment. Punish-

I98 THE WILL TO POWER.

ment does not purify, simply because crime does
not sully.

A criminal should not be prevented from
making his peace with society, provided he does
not belong to the race of criminals. In the latter
case, however, he should be opposed even before
he has committed an act of hostility. (As soon
as he gets into the clutches of society the first
operation to be performed upon him should be
that of castration.) A criminal's bad manners
and his low degree of intelligence should not be
reckoned against him. Nothing is more common
than that he should misunderstand himself (more
particularly when his rebellious instinct — the ran-
cour of the unclassed — has not reached conscious-
ness simply because he has not read enough). It
is natural that he should deny and dishonour his
deed while under the influence of fear at its failure.
All this is quite distinct from those cases in which,
psychologically speaking, the criminal yields to
an incomprehensible impulse, and attributes a
motive to his deed by associating it with a merely
incidental and insignificant action (for example,
robbing a man, when his real desire was to take
his blood).

The worth of a man should not be measured by
any one isolated act. Napoleon warned us against
this. Deeds which are only skin-deep are more
particularly insignificant. If we have no crime —
let us say no murder — on our conscience ; why is
it ? It simply means that a few favourable circum-
stances have been wanting in our lives. And sup-
posing we were induced to commit such a crime

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 199

would our worth be materially affected ? As a
matter of fact, we should only be despised, if we
were not credited with possessing the power to kill a
man under certain circumstances. In nearly every
crime certain qualities come into play without
which no one would be a true man. Dostoievsky
was not far wrong when he said of the inmates of
the penal colonies in Siberia, that they constituted
the strongest and most valuable portion of the
Russian people. The fact that in our society the
criminal happens to be a badly nourished and
stunted animal is simply a condemnation of our
system. In the days of the Renaissance the
criminal was a flourishing specimen of humanity,
and acquired his own virtue for himself. — Virtue in
the sense of the Renaissance — that is to say, virtu ;
free from moralic acid.

It is only those whom we do not despise that
we are able to elevate. Moral contempt is a far
greater indignity and insult than any kind of crime.

741.

Shame was first introduced into punishment
when certain penalties were inflicted on persons
held in contempt, such as slaves. It was a de-
spised class that was most frequently punished, and
thus it came to pass that punishment and contempt
were associated.

742.

In the ancient idea of punishment a religious con-
cept was immanent, namely, the retributive power

200 THE WILL TO POWER.

of chastisement. Penalties purified : in modern
society, however, penalties degrade. Punishment
is a form of paying off a debt : once it has been
paid, one is freed from the deed for which one was
so ready to suffer. Provided belief in the power
of punishment exist, once the penalty is paid a feel-
ing of relief and lightheartedness results, which is
not so very far removed from a state of conval-
escence and health. One has made one's peace
with society, and one appears to one's self more
dignified — " pure." . . . To-day, however, punish-
ment isolates even more than the crime ; the fate
behind the sin has become so formidable that it is
almost hopeless. One rises from punishment still
an enemy of society. Henceforward it reckons yet
another enemy against it. The jus talionis may
spring from the spirit of retribution (that is to say,
from a sort of modification of the instinct of re-
venge) ; but in the Book of Manu, for instance, it
is the need of having some equivalent in order to
do penance, or to become free in a religious sense.

743-

My pretty radical note of interrogation in
the case of all more modern laws of punish-
ment is this: should not the punishment fit the
crime? — for in your heart of hearts thus would
you have it. But then the susceptibility of the
particular criminal to pain would have to be taken
into account. In other words, there should be no
such thing as a preconceived penalty for any crime
— no fixed penal code. But as it would be no

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 201

easy matter to ascertain the degree of sensitiveness
of each individual criminal, punishment would have
to be abolished in practice ? What a sacrifice !
Is it not? Consequently . . .

744-

Ah! and the philosophy of jurisprudence ! That
is a science which, like all moral sciences, has not
even been wrapped in swaddling-clothes yet. Even
among jurists who consider themselves liberal, the
oldest and most valuable significance of punish-
ment is still misunderstood — it is not even known.
So long as jurisprudence does not build upon a
new foundation — on history and comparative an-
thropology— it will never cease to quarrel over the
fundamentally false abstractions which are fondly
imagined to be the " philosophy of law," and which
have nothing whatever to do with modern man.
The man of to-day, however, is such a complicated
woof even in regard to his legal valuation that he
allows of the most varied interpretation.

745.

An old Chinese sage once said he had heard that
when mighty empires were doomed they began to
have numberless laws.

746.

Schopenhauer would have all rapscallions cast-
rated, and all geese shut up in convents. But from

202 THE WILL TO POWER.

what point of view would this be desirable ? The
rascal has at least this advantage over other men —
that he is not mediocre; and the fool is superior
to us inasmuch as he does not suffer at the sight
of mediocrity. It would be better to widen the
gulf — that is to say, roguery and stupidity should
be increased. In this way human nature would
become broader . . . but, after all, this is Fate, and
it will happen, whether we desire it or not. Idiocy
and roguery are increasing : this is part of modern
progress.

747-

Society, to-day, is full of consideration, tact, and
reticence, and of good-natured respect for other
people's rights — even for the exactions of strangers.
To an even greater degree is there a certain charit-
able and instinctive depreciation of the worthof man
as shown by all manner of trustful habits. Respect
for men, and not only for the most virtuous, is
perhaps the real parting of the ways between us
and the Christian mythologists. We also have our
good share of irony even when listening to moral
sermons. He who preaches morality to us debases
himself in our eyes and becomes almost comical.
Liberal-mindedness regarding morality is one of
the best signs of our age. In cases where it is
most distinctly wanting, we regard it as a sign of a
morbid condition (the case of Carlyle in England,
of Ibsen in Norway, and Schopenhauer's pessimism
throughout Europe). If there is anything which
can reconcile us to our own age, it is precisely the
amount of immorality which it allows itself without

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 203

falling in its own estimation — very much the re-
verse ! In what, then, does the superiority of culture
over the want of culture consist — of the Renais-
sance, for instance, over the Middle Ages ? In this
alone : the greater quantity of acknowledged im-
morality. From this it necessarily follows that the
very zenith of human development must be regarded
by the moral fanatic as the non plus ultra of cor-
ruption (in this connection let us recall Savona-
rola's judgment of Florence, Plato's indictment of
Athens under Pericles, Luther's condemnation of
Rome, Rousseau's anathemas against the society of
Voltaire, and Germany's hostility to Goethe).

748.

A little more fresh air, for Heaven's sake ! This
ridiculous condition of Europe must not last any
longer. Is there a single idea behind this bovine
nationalism ? What possible value can there be in
encouraging this arrogant self-conceit when every-
thing to-day points to greater and more common
interests? — at a moment when the spiritual de-
pendence and denationalisation, which are obvious
to all, are paving the way for the reciprocal
rapprochements and fertilisations which make up
the real value and sense of present-day culture !
. . . And it is precisely now that " the new German
Empire " has been founded upon the most thread-
bare and discredited of ideas — universal suffrage
and equal right for all.

Think of all this struggling for advantage among
conditions which are in every way degenerate : of

0

204 THE WILL TO POWER.

this culture of big cities, of newspapers, of hurry and
scurry, and of " aimlessness " ! The economic unity
of Europe must necessarily come — and with it, as
a reaction, the pacivist movement.

A pacivist party, free from all sentimentality,
which forbids its children to wage war; which
forbids recourse to courts of justice ; which for-
swears all fighting, all contradiction, and all perse-
cution : for a while the party of the oppressed, and
later the powerful party : — this party would be op-
posed to everything in the shape of revenge and
resentment.

There will also be a war party, exercising the
same thoroughness and severity towards itself, which
will proceed in precisely the opposite direction.

749-

The princes of Europe should really consider
whether as a matter of fact they can dispense with
our services — with us, the immoralists. We are
to-day the only power which can win a victory
without allies : and we are therefore far and away
the strongest of the strong. We can even do with-
out lying, and let me ask what other power can
dispense with this weapon ? A strong temptation
fights for us ; the strongest, perhaps, that exists
— the temptation of truth. . . . Truth ? How do
I come by this word ? I must withdraw it : I must
repudiate this proud word. But no. We do not
even want it — we shall be quite able to achieve our
victory of power without its help. The real charm
which fights for us, the eye of Venus which our

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 205

opponents themselves deaden and blind — this
charm is the magic of the extreme. The fascina-
tion which everything extreme exercises : we
immoralists — we are in every way the extremists.

750.

The corrupted ruling classes have brought ruling
into evil odour. The State administration of justice
is a piece of cowardice, because the great man
who can serve as a standard is lacking. At last
the feeling of insecurity becomes so great that
men fall in the dust before any sort of will-power
that commands.

751.

" The will to power " is so loathed in democratic
ages that the whole of the psychology of these ages
seems directed towards its belittlement and slander.
The types of men who sought the highest honours
are said to have been Napoleon ! Caesar ! and
Alexander ! — as if these had not been precisely
the greatest scorners of honour.

And Helvetius would fain show us that we strive
after power in order to have those pleasures which
are at the disposal of the mighty — that is to say,
according to him, this striving after power is the
will to pleasure — hedonism !

752.

According as to whether a people feels : " the
rights, the keenness of vision, and the gifts of lead-
ing, etc., are with the few " or " with the many " —

206 THE WILL TO TOWER.

it constitutes an oligarchic or a democratic com-
munity.

Monarchy represents the belief in a man who
is completely superior — a leader, a saviour, a
demigod.

Aristocracy represents the belief in a chosen
few — in a higher caste.

Democracy represents the disbelief in all great
men and in all dlite societies : everybody is every-
body else's equal " At bottom we are all herd
and mob."

753-

I am opposed to Socialism because it dreams
ingenuously of " goodness, truth, beauty, and
equal rights * (anarchy pursues the same ideal,
but in a more brutal fashion).
j I am opposed to parliamentary government
iand the power of the press, because they are the
means whereby cattle become masters.

754.

The arming of the people means in the end
the arming of the mob.

755.

Socialists are particularly ridiculous in my eyes,
because of their absurd optimism concerning the
"good man" who is supposed to be waiting in their
cupboard, and who will come into being when the
present order of society has been overturned and
has made way for natural instincts. But the

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL 209

according to his kind, be so placed as to perform
the highest that is compatible with his powers.

764.

Noblemen ought one day to live as the bour-
geois do now — but above them, distinguishing
themselves by the simplicity of their wants —
the superior caste will then live in a poorer
and simpler way and yet be in possession of
power.

For lower orders of mankind the reverse
valuations hold good : it is a matter of implanting
" virtues " in them. Absolute commands, terrible
compulsory methods, in order that they may rise
above mere ease in life. The remainder may
obey, but their vanity demands that they may
feel themselves dependent, not upon great men,
but upon principles.

765.

" The Atonement of all Sin."

People speak of the " profound injustice " of
the social arrangement, as if the fact that one man
is born in favourable circumstances and that
another is born in unfavourable ones — or that
one should possess gifts the other has not, were
on the face of it an injustice. Among the more
honest of these opponents of society this is what
is said : " We, with all the bad, morbid, criminal
qualities which we acknowledge we possess, are
only the inevitable result of the oppression for
vol. 11. O

210 THE WILL TO POWER.

ages of the weak by the strong " ; thus they insinu-
ate their evil natures into the consciences of the
ruling classes. They threaten and storm and curse.
They become virtuous from sheer indignation —
they don't want to have become bad men and
canaille for nothing. The name for this attitude,
which is an invention of the last century, is, if I am
not mistaken, pessimism; and even that pessimism
which is the outcome of indignation. It is in this
attitude of mind that history is judged, that it
is deprived of its inevitable fatality, and that
responsibility and even guilt is discovered in it.
For the great desideratum is to find guilty people
in it. The botched and the bungled, the de-
cadents of all kinds, are revolted at themselves,
and require sacrifices in order that they may not
slake their thirst for destruction upon themselves
(which might, indeed, be the most reasonable
procedure). But for this purpose they at least
require a semblance of justification, i.e, a theory
according to which the fact of their existence, and
of their character, may be expiated by a scapegoat.
This scapegoat may be God, — in Russia such
resentful atheists are not wanting, — or the order
of society, or education and upbringing, or the
Jews, or the nobles, or, finally, the well-constituted
of every kind. " It is a sin for a man to have been
born in decent circumstances, for by so doing
he disinherits the others, he pushes them aside, he
imposes upon them the curse of vice and of
work. . . . How can I be made answerable
for my misery ; surely some one must be respons-
ible for it, or I could not bear to live." . . .

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 211

In short, resentful pessimism discovers responsible
parties in order to create a pleasurable sensation
for itself — revenge. ..." Sweeter than honey " —
thus does even old Homer speak of revenge.

The fact that such a theory no longer meets with
understanding — or rather, let us say, contempt —
is accounted for by that particle of Christianity
which still circulates in the blood of every one
of us ; it makes us tolerant towards things simply
because we scent a Christian savour about them. . . .
The Socialists appeal to the Christian instincts ;
this is their really refined piece of cleverness. . . .
Thanks to Christianity, we have now grown
accustomed to the superstitious concept of a
soul — of an immortal soul, of soul monads,
which, as a matter of fact, hails from somewhere
else, and which has only become inherent in
certain cases — that is to say, become incarnate
in them — by accident: but the nature of these
cases is not altered, let alone determined by it.
The circumstances of society, of relationship, and
of history are only accidents for the soul, perhaps
misadventures : in any case, the world is not their
work. By means of the idea of soul the individual
is made transcendental ; thanks to it, a ridiculous
amount of importance can be attributed to him.

As a matter of fact, it was Christianity which
first induced the individual to take up this position
of judge of all things. It made megalomania
almost his duty : it has made everything temporary
and limited subordinate to eternal rights ! What

212 THE WILL TO POWER.

is the State, what is society, what are historical
laws, what is physiology to me? Thus speaks
something from beyond Becoming, an immutable
entity throughout history : thus speaks something
immortal, something divine — it is the soul !
i Another Christian, but no less insane, concept
i has percolated even deeper into the tissues of
modern ideas : the concept of the equality of all
souls before God. In this concept the prototype of
all theories concerning equal rights is to be found.
Man was first taught to stammer this proposition
religiously : later, it was converted into a moral ;
no wonder he has ultimately begun to take it
seriously, to take it practically ! — that is to say,
politically, socialistically, resen to- pessimistically.

Wherever responsible circumstances or people
have been looked for, it was the instinct of revenge
that sought them. This instinct of revenge
obtained such an ascendancy over man in the
course of centuries that the whole of metaphysics,
psychology, ideas of society, and, above all,
morality, are tainted with it. Man has nourished
this idea of responsibility to such an extent that
he has introduced the bacillus of vengeance into
everything. By means of it he has made God
Himself ill, and killed innocence in the universe,
by tracing every condition of things to acts of
will, to intentions, to responsible agents. The
whole teaching of will, this most fatal fraud that
has ever existed in psychology hitherto, was
invented essentially for the purpose of punishment.
It was the social utility of punishment that lent
this concept its dignity, its power, and its truth.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 21 3

The originator of that psychology, that we shall
call volitional psychology, must be sought in
those classes which had the right of punishment
in their hands ; above all, therefore, among the
priests who stood on the very pinnacle of ancient
social systems : these people wanted to create for
themselves the right to wreak revenge — they
wanted to supply God with the privilege of
vengeance. For this purpose ; man was declared
" free " : to this end every action had to be re-
garded as voluntary, and the origin of every deed
had to be considered as lying in consciousness.
But by such propositions as these ancient psych-
ology is refuted.

To-day, when Europe seems to have taken the
contrary direction ; when we halcyonians would
fain withdraw, dissipate, and banish the concept of
guilt and punishment with all our might from the
world ; when our most serious endeavours are
concentrated upon purifying psychology, morality,
history, nature, social institutions and privileges,
and even God Himself, from this filth ; in whom
must we recognise our most mortal enemies?
Precisely in those apostles of revenge and
resentment, in those who are par excellence
pessimists from indignation, who make it their
mission to sanctify their filth with the name of
" righteous indignation." . . . We others, whose
one desire is to reclaim innocence on behalf of
Becoming, would fain be the missionaries of a
purer thought, namely, that no one is responsible
for man's qualities ; neither God, nor society, nor
his parents, nor his ancestors, nor himself — in fact,

214 THE WILL TO POWER.

that no one is to blame for him . . . The being
who might be made responsible for a man's exist-
ence, for the fact that he is constituted in a
particular way, or for his birth in certain circum-
stances and in a certain environment, is absolutely
lacking. — And it is a great blessing that such a
being is non-existent. . . . We are not the result
of an eternal design, of a will, of a desire : there
is no attempt being made with us to attain to an
" ideal of perfection," to an " ideal of happiness,"
to an " ideal of virtue," — and we are just as little
the result of a mistake on God's part in the
presence of which He ought to feel uneasy (a
thought which is known to be at the very root
of the Old Testament). There is not a place
nor a purpose nor a sense to which we can
attribute our existence or our kind of existence.
In the first place, no one is in a position to do
this : it is quite impossible to judge, to measure,
or to compare, or even to deny the whole universe !
And why ? — For five reasons, all accessible to the
man of average intelligence : for instance, because
there is no existence outside the universe ... and
let us say it again, this is a great blessing, for
therein lies the whole innocence of our lives.

2. The Individual.

766.

Fundamental errors : to regard the herd as an
aim instead of the individual ! The herd is only
a means and nothing more ! But nowadays

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 21 5

people are trying to understand the herd as they
would an individual, and to confer higher rights
upon it than upon isolated personalities. Terrible
mistake ! ! In addition to this, all that makes for
gregariousness, e.g. sympathy, is regarded as the
more valuable side of our natures.

767.

The individual is something quite new, and\
capable of creating new things. He is something j
absolute, and all his actions are quite his own.
The individual in the end has to seek the valua-
tion for his actions in himself: because he has
to give an individual meaning even to traditional
words and notions. His interpretation of a
formula is at least personal, even if he does not
create the formula itself : at least as an interpreter
he is creative.

768.

The " ego " oppresses and kills. It acts like
an organic cell. It is predatory and violent. It
would fain regenerate itself — pregnancy. It would
fain give birth to its God and see all mankind at
its feet.

769.

Every living organism gropes around as far as
its power permits, and overcomes all that is
weaker than itself: by this means it finds pleasure
in its own existence. The increasing " humanity "
of this tendency consists in the fact that we are
beginning to feel ever more subtly how difficult

2l6 THE WILL TO POWER.

it is really to absorb others : while we could show
our power by injuring him, his will estranges him
from us, and thus makes him less susceptible of
being overcome.

770.

The degree of resistance which has to be con-
tinually overcome in order to remain at the top, is
the measure of freedom, whether for individuals or
for societies : freedom being understood as positive
power, as will to power. The highest form of
individual freedom, of sovereignty, would, according
to this, in all probability be found not five feet
away from its opposite — that is to say, where the
danger of slavery hangs over life, like a hundred
swords of Damocles. Let any one go through the
whole of history from this point of view : the ages
when the individual reaches perfect maturity, i.e. the
free ages, when the classical type, sovereign man, is
attained to — these were certainly not humane times!

There should be no choice : either one must
be uppermost or nethermost — like a worm,
despised, annihilated, trodden upon. One must
have tyrants against one in order to become a
tyrant, i.e. in order to be free. It is no small
advantage to have a hundred swords of Damocles
suspended over one : it is only thus that one
learns to dance, it is only thus that one attains
to any freedom in one's movements.

771.

Man more than any other animal was originally
altruistic — hence his slow growth (child) and lofty

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 2\y

development. Hence, too, his extraordinary and
latest kind of egoism.. — Beasts of prey are much
more individualistic.

772.

A criticism of selfishness. The involuntary
ingenuousness of La Rochefoucauld, who believed
that he was saying something bold, liberal, and
paradoxical (in his days, of course, truth in
psychological matters was something that
astonished people) when he said : " Les grandes
times ne sont pas celles qui ont moins de passions
et plus de vertus que les times communes ', mais seule-
ment celles qui ont de plus grands desseins."
Certainly, John Stuart Mill (who calls Chamfort
the noble and philosophical La Rochefoucauld of
the eighteenth century) recognises in him merely
an astute and keen-sighted observer of all that
which is the result of habitual selfishness in the
human breast, and he adds : " A noble spirit is
unable to see the necessity of a constant observa-
tion of baseness and contemptibility ', unless it were
to show against what corrupting influences a
lofty spirit and a noble character were able to
triumph."

773-

The Morphology of the Feelings of Self.

First standpoint. — To what extent are sympathy
or communal feelings, the lower or preparatory
states, at a time when personal self-esteem and
initiative in valuation, on the part of individuals,
are not yet possible ?

218 THE WILL TO POWER.

Second standpoint. — To what extent is the zenith
of collective self-esteem, the pride in the distinc-
tion of the clan, the feeling of inequality and a
certain abhorrence of mediation, of equal rights and
of reconciliation, the school for individual self-
esteem ? It may be this in so far as it compels the
individual to represent the pride of the community
— he is obliged to speak and act with tremendous
self-respect, because he stands for the community
And the same holds good when the individual re-
gards himself as the instrument or speaking-tube
of a godhead.

Third standpoint. — To what extent do these
forms of impersonality invest the individual with
enormous importance ? In so far as higher powers
are using him as an intermediary : religious shy-
ness towards one's self is the condition of prophets
and poets.

Fourth standpoint. — To what extent does re-
sponsibility for a whole educate the individual in
foresight, and give him a severe and terrible hand,
a calculating and cold heart, majesty of bearing
and of action — things which he would not allow
himself if he stood only for his own rights ?

In short, collective self-esteem is the great pre-
paratory school for personal sovereignty. The
noble caste is that which creates the heritage of
this faculty.

774-

The disguised forms of will to power : —
( 1 ) The desire for freedomy for independence
for equilibrium, for peace, for co-ordination. Also

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 219

that of the anchorite, the " Free-Spirit." In its
lowest form, the will to live at all costs — the
instinct of self-preservation.

(2) Subordination, with the view of satisfying
the will to power of a whole community ; submis-
siveness, the making of one's self indispensable and
useful to him who has the power ; love, a secret
path to the heart of the powerful, in order to be-
come his master.

(3) The feeling of duty, conscience, the imagin-
ary comfort of belonging to a higher order than
those who actually hold the reins of power ; the
acknowledgment of an order of rank which allows
of judging even the more powerful ; self-deprecia-
tion ; the discovery of new codes of morality (of
which the Jews are a classical example).

775.

Praise and gratitude as forms of will to power. —
Praise and gratitude for harvests, for good weather,
victories, marriages, and peace — all festivals need
a subject on which feeling can be outpoured. The
desire is to make all good things that happen to
one appear as though they had been done to one :
people will have a donor. The same holds good
of the work of art : people are not satisfied with
it alone, they must praise the artist. — What, then,
is praise ? It is a sort of compensation for benefits
received, a sort of giving back, a manifestation of
our power — for the man who praises assents to,
blesses, values, judges : he arrogates to himself the
right to give his consent to a thing, to be able to

220 THE WILL TO POWER.

confer honours. An increased feeling of happiness
or of liveliness is also an increased feeling of power,
and it is as a result of this feeling that a man
praises (it is as the outcome of this feeling that
he invents a donor, a " subject "). Gratitude is
thus revenge of a lofty kind : it is most severely
exercised and demanded where equality and pride
both require to be upheld — that is to say, where
revenge is practised to its fullest extent.

776.
Concerning the Machiavellism of Power.

The will to power appears : —

(a) Among the oppressed and slaves of all kinds,
in the form of will to "freedom " : the mere fact of
breaking loose from something seems to be an end
in itself (in a religio-moral sense : " One is only
answerable to one's own conscience " ; " evangelical
freedom," etc. etc.).

(J?) In the case of a stronger species, ascending
to power, in the form of the will to overpower. If
this fails, then it shrinks to the " will to justice " —
that is to say, to the will to the same measure of
rights as the ruling caste possesses.

(c) In the case of the strongest, richest, most
independent, and most courageous, in the form of
" love of humanity," of " love of the people," of the
" gospel," of " truth," of " God," of " pity," of " self-
sacrifice," etc. etc. ; in the form of overpowering, of
deeds of capture, of imposing service on some one,
of an instinctive reckoning of one's self as part of a
great mass of power to which one attempts to give

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 221

a direction : the hero, the prophet, the Caesar, the
Saviour, the bell-wether. (The love of the sexes
also belongs to this category ; it will overpower
something, possess it utterly, and it looks like self-
abnegation. At bottom it is only the love of one's
instrument, of one's " horse " — the conviction that
things belong to one because one is in a position
to use them.)

" Freedom" "Justice," " Love " ! ! !

777>

Love. — Behold this love and pity of women —
what could be more egoistic ? . . . And when they
do sacrifice themselves and their honour or reputa-
tion, to whom do they sacrifice themselves ? To the
man ? Is it not rather to an unbridled desire ?
These desires are quite as selfish, even though they
may be beneficial to others and provoke gratitude.
. . . To what extent can such a hyperfcetation of
one valuation sanctify everything else ! !

778.

" Senses" " Passions." — When the fear of the
senses and of the passions and of the desires be-
comes so great as to warn us against them, it is
already a symptom of weakness : extreme measures
always characterise abnormal conditions. That
which is lacking here, or more precisely that which
is decaying, is the power to resist an impulse : when
one feels instinctively that one must yield, — that is
to say, that one must react, — then it is an excellent
thing to avoid opportunities (temptations).

>

222 THE WILL TO POWER.

The stimulation of the senses is only a tempta-
tion in so far as those creatures are concerned
whose systems are easily swayed and influenced :
on the other hand, in the case of remarkable con-
stitutional obtuseness and hardness, strong stimuli
are necessary in order to set the functions in
motion. Dissipation can only be objected to in
the case of one who has no right to it ; and almost
all passions have fallen into disrepute thanks to
those who were not strong enough to convert them
to their own advantage.

One should understand that passions are open
to the same objections as illnesses : yet we should
not be justified in doing without illnesses, and still
less without passions. We require the abnormal ;
we give life a tremendous shock by means of these
great illnesses.

In detail the following should be distinguished: —

(i) The dominating passion, which may even
bring the supremest form of health with it : in this
case the co-ordination of the internal system and
its functions to perform one task is best attained, —
but this is almost a definition of health.

(2) The antagonism of the passions — the double,
treble, and multiple soul in one breast : * this is
very unhealthy ; it is a sign of inner ruin and
of disintegration, betraying and promoting an
internal dualism and anarchy — unless, of course,
one passion becomes master. Return to health.

* This refers to Goethe's Faust. In Part I., Act I., Scene II.,
we find Faust exclaiming in despair : " Two souls, alas ! within
my bosom throne!" See Theodore Martin's Faust, trans-
lated into English verse. — Tr.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 223

(3) The juxtaposition of passions without their
being either opposed or united with one another.
Very often transitory, and then, as soon as order is
established, this condition may be a healthy one.
A most interesting class of men belong to this
order, the chameleons ; they are not necessarily at
loggerheads with themselves, they are both happy
and secure, but they cannot develop — their moods
lie side by side, even though they may seem to lie
far apart They change, but they become nothing.

779-

The quantitative estimate of aims and its in-
fluence upon the valuing standpoint: the great
and the small criminal. The greatness or small-
ness of the aims will determine whether the doer
feels respect for himself with it all, or whether
he feels pusillanimous and miserable.

The degree of intellectuality manifested in the
means employed may likewise influence our valua-
tion. How differently the philosophical innovator,
experimenter, and man of violence stands out
against robbers, barbarians, adventurers ! — There
is a semblance of disinterestedness in the former.

Finally, noble manners, bearing, courage, self-
confidence, — how they alter the value of that
which is attained by means of them !

*

Concerning the optics of valuation : —

The influence of the greatness or smallness of
the aims.

224 THE WILL TO POWER.

The influence of the intellectuality of the means.
The influence of the behaviour in action.
The influence of success or failure.
The influence of opposing forces and their value.
The influence of that which is permitted and
that which is forbidden.

780.

The tricks by means of which actions, measures,
and passions are legitimised, which from an in-
dividual standpoint are no longer good form or
even in good taste : —

Art, which allows us to enter such strange worlds,
makes them tasteful to us.

Historians prove its justification and reason ;
travels, exoticism, psychology, penal codes, the
lunatic asylum, the criminal, sociology.

Impersonality (so that as media of a collective
whole we allow ourselves these passions and actions
— the Bar, juries, the bourgeois, the soldier, the
minister, the prince, society, " critics ") makes us
feel that we are sacrificing something.

781.

Preoccupations concerning one's self and one's
eternal salvation are not expressive either of a
rich or of a self-confident nature, for the latter
lets all questions of eternal bliss go to the devil,
— it is not interested in such matters of happiness ;
it is all power, deeds, desires ; it imposes itself
upon things ; it even violates things. The Chris-

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL.

225

tian is a romantic hypochondriac who does not
stand firmly on his legs.

Whenever hedonistic views come to the front,
one can always presuppose the existence of pain
and a certain ill-constitutedness.

782.

" The growing autonomy of the individual " —
Parisian philosophers like M. Fouillee talk of such
things : they would do well to study the race
moutonniere for a moment ; for they belong to it.
For Heaven's sake open your eyes, ye sociologists
who deal with the future ! The individual grew
strong under quite opposite conditions : ye describe
the extremest weakening and impoverishment of
man ; ye actually want this weakness and impover-
ishment, and ye apply the whole lying machinery
of the old ideal in order to achieve your end. Ye
are so constituted that ye actually regard your
gregarious wants as an ideal ! Here we are in
the presence of an absolute lack of psychological
honesty.

783-

The two traits which characterise the modern
European are apparently antagonistic — individual-
ism and the demand for equal rights : this I am at
last beginning to understand. The individual is
an extremely vulnerable piece of vanity: this
vanity, when it is conscious of its high degree of
susceptibility to pain, demands that every one
should be made equal ; that the individual should
only stand inter pares. But in this way a social
vol. 11. P

226 THE WILL TO POWER.

race is depicted in which, as a matter of fact, gifts
and powers are on the whole equally distributed.
The pride which would have loneliness and but
few appreciators is quite beyond comprehension :
really " great " successes are only attained through
the masses — indeed, we scarcely understand yet
that a mob success is in reality only a small suc-
vv' cess; because pulchrum est paucorum hominum.

No morality will countenance order of rank
among men, and the jurists know nothing of a
communal conscience. The principle of indi-
vidualism rejects really great men, and demands
the most delicate vision for, and the speediest dis-
covery of, a talent among people who are almost
equal ; and inasmuch as every one has some
modicum of talent in such late and civilised cul-
tures (and can, therefore, expect to receive his share
of honour), there is a more general buttering-up
of modest merits to-day than there has ever been.
This gives the age the appearance of unlimited
j justice. Its want of justice is to be found not in
! its unbounded hatred of tyrants and demagogues,
: even in the arts ; but in its detestation of noble
natures who scorn the praise of the many. The
A demand for equal rights (that is to say, the privi-
lege of sitting in judgment on everything and
everybody) is anti-aristocratic.

This age knows just as little concerning the
absorption of the individual, of his mergence into
a great type of men who do not want to be
personalities. It was this that formerly constituted
the distinction and the zeal of many lofty natures
(the greatest poets among them) ; or of the desire

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 227

to be a polisy as in Greece ; or of Jesuitism, or of
the Prussian Staff Corps, and bureaucracy ; or of
apprenticeship and a continuation of the tradition
of great masters : to all of which things, non-social
conditions and the absence of petty vanity are
necessary.

784.

Individualism is a modest and still unconscious
form of will to power ; with it a single human unit
seems to think it sufficient to free himself from the
preponderating power of society (or of the State or
Church). He does not set himself up in opposi-
tion as a personality \ but merely as a unit ; he
represents the rights of all other individuals as
against the whole. That is to say, he instinc-
tively places himself on a level with every other
unit: what he combats he does not combat as a
person, but as a representative of units against a
mass.

Socialism is merely an agitatory measure of
individualism : it recognises the fact that in order ■
to attain to something, men must organise them-
selves into a general movement — into a " power."
But what the Socialist requires is not society as J
the object of the individual, but society as a means \
of making many individuals possible : this is the |
instinct of Socialists, though they frequently de-
ceive themselves on this point (apart from this,
however, in order to make their kind prevail, they
are compelled to deceive others to an enormous .
extent). Altruistic moral preaching thus enters
into the service of individual egoism, — one of

s^

vy

228 THE WILL TO TOWER.

the most common frauds of the nineteenth
\ century.

Anarchy is also merely an agitatory measure of
Socialism ; with it the Socialist inspires fear, with
fear he begins to fascinate and to terrorise : but
what he does above all is to draw all courageous
and reckless people to his side, even in the most
intellectual spheres.

In spite of all this, individualism is the most
modest stage of the will to power.

When one has reached a certain degree of inde-
pendence, one always longs for more : separation
in proportion to the degree of force ; the individual
is no longer content to regard himself as equal
to everybody, he actually seeks for his peer— he
makes himself stand out from others. Individual-
ism is followed by a development in groups and
organs ; correlative tendencies join up together and
become powerfully active : now there arise between
these centres of power, friction, war, ajecpnnoitring
of the forces on either side, reciprocity, under-
standings, and the regulation of mutual services.
Finally, there appears an order of rank.

Recapitulation —
4/ 1. The individuals emancipate themselves.

2. They make war, and ultimately agree con-
cerning equal rights (justice is made an end in itself).

3. Once this is reached, the actual differences in
degrees of power begin to make themselves felt,
and to a greater extent than before (the reason
being that on the whole peace is established, and
innumerable small centres of power begin to crerte

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 229

differences which formerly were scarcely notice-
able). Now the individuals begin to form groups, j
these strive after privileges and preponderance,
and war starts afresh in a milder form.

People demand freedom only when they have
no power. Once power~Ts obtained, a preponder-
ance thereof is the next thing to be coveted ; if
this is not achieved (owing to the fact that one is
still too weak for it), then "justice" i.e. " equality
of power " become the objects of desire.

785.

The rectification of the concept " egoism" — When
one has discovered what an error the " individual "
is, and that every single creature represents the
whole process of evolution (not alone " inherited,"
but in "himself"), the individual then acquires an
inordinately great importance. The voice of in-
stinct is quite right here. When this instinct
tends to decline, i.e. when the individual begins
to seek his worth in his services to others, one may
be sure that exhaustion and degeneration have set
in. An altruistic attitude of mind, when it is funda-
mental and free from all hypocrisy, is the instinct
of creating a second value for one's self in the ser-
vice of other egoists. As a rule, however, it is
only apparent — a circuitous path to the preserva-
tion of one's own feelfngs of vitality and worth.

786.
The History of Moralisation and Demoralisation.
Proposition one. — There are no such things as

230 THE WILL TO POWER.

moral actions: they are purely imaginary. Not
only is it impossible to demonstrate their exist-
ence (a fact which Kant and Christianity, for
instance, both acknowledged) — but they are not
even possible. Owing to psychological misunder-
standing, a man invented an opposite to the instinc-
tive impulses of life, and believed that a new species
of instinct was thereby discovered : a primum mobile /
was postulated which does not exist at all. Ac-
cording to the valuation which gave rise to the
antithesis "moral" and "immoral," one should
say: There is nothing else on earth but immoral
intentions and actions.

Proposition two. — The whole differentiation,
" moral " and " immoral," arises from the assump-
tion that both moral and immoral actions are the
result of a spontaneous will — in short, that such
, a will exists ; or in other words, that moral judg-

(ments can only hold good with regard to intuitions
and actions that are free. But this whole order of
actions and intentions is purely imaginary: the
only world to which the moral standard could be
applied does not exist at all : there is no such
\ thing as a moral or an immoral action.

The psychological error out of which the anti-
thesis " moral " and " immoral " arose is : ■ selfless,"
"unselfish," "self-denying" — all unreal and fan-
tastic.

A false dogmatism also clustered around the
concept "ego"; it was regarded as atomic, and
falsely opposed to a non-ego ; it was also liberated

\ nr

P

thL
fere

<

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 23 1

from Becoming, and declared to belong to the
sphere of Being. The false materialisation of the
ego : this (owing to the belief in individual im-
mortality) was made an article of faith under the
\ pressure of religio-moral discipline. According to
his artificial liberation of the ego and its trans-
ference to the realm of the absolute, people
thought that they had arrived at an antithesis
in values which seemed quite irrefutable — the
single ego and the vast non-ego. It seemed
obvious that the value of the individual ego could
only exist in conjunction with the vast non-ego,
more particularly in the sense of being subject to
it and existing only for its sake. Here, of course,
the gregarious instinct determined the direction
of thought : nothing is more opposed to this
instinct than the sovereignty of the individual/^- —
Supposing, however, that the ego be absolute, then
its value must lie in self-negation.

Thus: (1) the false emancipation of the "in-
dividual " as an atom ;

(2) The gregarious self-conceit which abhors the
desire to remain an atom, and regards it as hostile.

(3) As a result : the overcoming of the individual
by changing his aim.

(4) At this point there appeared to be actions
that were self-effacing : around these actions a
whole sphere of antitheses was fancied.

(5) It was asked, in what sort of actions does
man most strongly assert himself? Around these
(sexuality, covetousness, lust for power, cruelty,
etc. etc.) hate, contempt, and anathemas were
heaped : it was believed that there could be such

232

THE WILL TO POWER.

/\

<

-

things as selfless impulses. Everything selfish
was condemned, everything unselfish was in
demand.

(6) And the result was : what had been done ?
A ban had been placed on the strongest, the most
natural, yea, the only genuine impulses ; hencefor-
ward, in order that an action might be praiseworthy,
there must be no trace in it of any of those genuine
impulses — monstrous fraud in psychology. Every
kind of " self-satisfaction " had to be remodelled
and made possible by means of misunderstanding
and adjusting one's self sub specie boni. Conversely:
that species which found its advantage in depriving
mankind of its self-satisfaction, the representatives
of the gregarious instincts, e.g. the priests and the
philosophers, were sufficiently crafty and psycho-
logically astute to show how selfishness ruled every-
where. The Christian conclusion from this was :
" Everything is sin, even our virtues. Man is
utterly undesirable. Selfless actions are impos-
sible." Original sin. In short, once man had
opposed his instincts to a purely imaginary world
of the good, he concluded by despising himself as
incapable of performing " good " actions.

N.B. — In this way Christianity represents a step
forward in the sharpening of psychological insight :
La Rochefoucauld and Pascal. It perceived the
essential equality of human actions, and the equality
of their values as a whole (all immoral).

*

Now the first serious object was to rear men in
whom self-seeking impulses were extinguished:

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 233

priests, saints. And if people doubted that perfec-
tion was possible, they did not doubt what per-
fection was.

The psychology of the saint and of the priest
and of the "good" man, must naturally have seemed
purely phantasma^orica^ The real motive of all
action Tiad been declared bad : therefore, in order
to make action still possible, deeds had to be
prescribed which, though not possible, had to be
declared possible and sanctified. They now
honoured and idealised things with as much falsity
as they had previously slandered them.

Inveighing against the instincts of life came to
be regarded as holy and estimable. The priestly
ideal was : absolute chastity, absolute obedience
absolute poverty ! The lay ideal : alms, pity, self-
sacrifice, renunciation of the beautiful, of reason,
and of sensuality, and a dark frown for all the
strong qualities that existed.

7

\

An advance is made: the slandered instincts
attempt to re-establish their rights (e.g. Luther's
Reformation, the coarsest form of moral falsehood
under the cover of " Evangelical freedom "), they
are rechristened with holy names.

The calumniated instincts try to demonstrate that
they are necessary in order that the virtuous
instincts may be possible. 11 faut vivre, afin de
vivre pour autruii egoism as a means to an end.*

* Spencer's conclusion in the Data of Ethics.— 1*.

*

234 THE WILL TO POWER.

But people go still further : they try to grant
both the egoistic and altruistic impulses the right
to exist — equal rights for both — from the utili-
tarian standpoint.

People go further : they see greater utility in
placing the egoistic rights before the altruistic —
greater utility in the sense of more happiness for the
majority, or of the elevation of mankind, etc. etc.
Thus the rights of egoism begin to preponderate,
but under the cloak of an extremely altruistic
standpoint — the collective utility of humanity.

An attempt is made to reconcile the altruistic
mode of action with the natural order of things.
Altruism is sought in the very roots of life.
Altruism and egoism are both based upon the
essence of life and nature.

The disappearance of the opposition between
them is dreamt of as a future possibility. Con-
tinued adaptation, it is hoped, will merge the two
into one.

At last it is seen that altruistic actions are
' merely a species of the egoistic — and that the
degree to which one loves and spends one's self is a
proof of the extent of one's individual power and
personality. In short, that the more evil man can
be made, the better he is, and that one cannot be
the one without the other. ... At this point the
curtain rises which concealed the monstrous fraud
of the psychology that has prevailed hitherto.

Results. — There are only immoral intentions and
actions : the so-called moral actions must be shown

(-

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 235

to be immoral. All emotions are traced to a single
will, the will to power, and are called essentially
equal. The concept of life : in the apparent
antithesis good and evil, degrees of power in the
instincts alone are expressed. A temporary order
of rank is established according to which certain
instincts are either controlled or enlisted in our
service. Morality is justified : economically, etc.

Against proposition two. — Determinism : the
attempt to rescue the moral world by transferring
it to the unknown.

Determinism is only a manner of allowing our-
selves to conjure our valuations away, once they
have lost their place in a world interpreted
mechanistically. Determinism must therefore be
attacked and undermined at all costs : just as our *
right to distinguish between an absolute and J/
phenomenal world should be disputed.

7S7.

It is absolutely necessary to emancipate our-
selves from motives : otherwise we should not be
allowed to attempt to sacrifice ourselves or to
neglect ourselves! Only the innocence of Be- / \J ,
coming gives us the highest courage and the j y
highest freedom. ~T/

788.

A clean conscience must be restored to the evil
man — has this been my involuntary endeavour all

7

236 THE WILL TO POWER.

the time? for I take as the evil man him who is
strong (Dostoievsky's belief concerning the con-
victs in prison should be referred to here).

789.

Our new " freedom." What a feeling of relief
there is in the thought that we emancipated spirits
do not feel ourselves harnessed to any system of
teleological aims. Likewise that the concepts
reward and punishment have no roots in the
essence of existence ! Likewise that good and
evil actions are not good or evil in themselves,
but only from the point of view of the self-pre-
servative tendencies of certain species of humanity !
Likewise that our speculations concerning pleasure
and pain are not of cosmic, far less then of meta-
physical, importance ! (That form of pessimism
associated with the name of Hartmann, which
pledges itself to put even the pain and pleasure of
existence into the balance, with its arbitrary con-
finement in the prison and within the bounds of
pre-Copernican thought, would be something not
only retrogressive, but degenerate, unless it be
merely a bad joke on the part of a " Berliner." *)

790.

If one is clear as to the "wherefore" of one's
life, then the " how " of it can take care of itself.

* " Berliner " — The citizens of Berlin are renowned in
Germany for their poor jokes. — Tr.

SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL. 237

It is already even a sign of disbelief in the where-
fore and in the purpose and sense of life — in fact,
it is a sign of a lack of will — when the value of
pleasure and pain step into the foreground, and
hedonistic and pessimistic teaching becomes pre-
valent ; and self-abnegation, resignation, virtue,
" objectivity," may, at the very least, be signs that
the most important factor is beginning to make
its absence felt.

791.

Hitherto there has been no German culture. It
is no refutation of this assertion to say that there
have been great anchorites in Germany (Goethe,
for instance) ; for these had their own culture.
But it was precisely around them, as though around
mighty, defiant, and isolated rocks, that the remain-
ing spirit of Germany, as their antithesis, lay — that
is to say, as a soft, swampy, slippery soil, upon
which every step and every footprint of the rest
of Europe made an impression and created forms.
German culture was a thing devoid of character
and of almost unlimited yielding power.

792.

Germany, though very rich in clever and well-
informed scholars, has for some time been so ex-
cessively poor in great souls and in mighty minds,
that it almost seems to have forgotten what a great
soul or a mighty mind is ; and to-day mediocre and
even ill-constituted men place themselves in the
market square without the suggestion of a con-
science-prick or a signof embarrassment, and declare

238 THE WILL TO POWER.

themselves great men, reformers, etc. Take the
case of Eugen Diihring, for instance, a really clever
and well-informed scholar, but a man who betrays
with almost every word he says that he has a miser-
ably small soul, and that he is horribly tormented
by narrow envious feelings ; moreover, that it is no
mighty overflowing, benevolent, and spendthrift
spirit that drives him on, but only the spirit of
ambition ! But to be ambitious in such an age as
this is much more unworthy of a philosopher than
ever it was : to-day, when it is the mob that rules,
when it is the mob that dispenses the honours.

793-

My " future " : a . severe polytechnic education.
Conscription ; so that as a rule every man of the
higher classes should be an officer, whatever else
he may be besides.

IV.

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.

794-

OUR religion, morality, and philosophy are
decadent human institutions.
The counter-agent : Art

795.

The Artist-philosopher. A higher concept of
art. Can man stand at so great a distance from
his fellows as to mould them ? (Preliminary ex-
ercises thereto : —

1. To become a self- former, an anchorite.

2. To do what artists have done hitherto, i.e.
to reach a small degree of perfection in a certain

t medium.)

796.

Art as it appears without the artist, i.e. as a
body, an organisation (the Prussian Officers' Corps,
the Order of the Jesuits). To what extent is the
artist merely a preliminary stage? The world

regarded as a self-generating work of art

239

240 THE WILL TO POWER.

797-

The phenomenon, " artist," is the easiest to see
through : from it one can look down upon the
fundamental instincts of power, of nature, etc. ;
even of religion and morality.

" Play," uselessness — as the ideal of him who is
overflowing with power, as the ideal of the child.
The childishness of God, irah trai^tov.

798.

Apollonian, Dionysian. There are two con-
ditions in which art manifests itself in man even
as a force of nature, and disposes of him whether
he consent or not : it may be as a constraint to
visionary states, or it may be an orgiastic impulse.
Both conditions are to be seen in normal life, but
they are then somewhat weaker : in dreams and
in moments of elation or intoxication.*

But the same contrast exists between the dream
state and the state of intoxication : both of these
states let loose all manner of artistic powers with-
in us, but each unfetters powers of a different
kind. Dreamland gives us the power of vision, of
association, of poetry : intoxication gives us the
power of grand attitudes, of passion, of song, and
of dance.

* German : " Rausch." — There is no word in English for
the German expression " Rausch." When Nietzsche uses it,
he means a sort of blend of our two words : intoxication and
elation. — Tr.

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 24I

799-

Sexuality and voluptuousness belong to the
Dionysiac intoxication : but neither of them is
lacking in the Apollonian state. There is also
a difference of tempo between the states. . . . The
extreme peace of certain feelings of intoxication (or,
more strictly, the slackening of the feeling of time,
and the reduction of the feeling of space) is wont
to reflect itself in the vision of the most restful
attitudes and states of the soul. The classical
style essentially represents repose, simplification,
foreshortening, and concentration — the highest feel-
ing of power is concentrated in the classical type.
To react with difficulty : great consciousness : no
feeling of strife.

800.

r

The feeling of intoxication is, as a matter of
fact, equivalent to a sensation of surplus power : it
is strongest in seasons of rut : new organs, new
accomplishments, new colours, new forms. Em-
bellishment is an outcome of increased power.
Embellishment is merely an expression of a
triumphant will, of an increased state of co-
ordination, of a harmony of all the strong desires,
of an infallible and perpendicular equilibrium.
Logical and geometrical simplification is the result
of an increase of power : conversely, the mere
aspect of such a simplification increases the sense
of power in the beholder. . . . The zenith of
development : the grand style.

Ugliness signifies the decadence of a type : con-
vol. 11. O

242 THE WILL TO POWER.

tradiction and faulty co-ordination among the in-
most desires — this means a decline in the organis-
ingpower, or, psychologically speaking,in the " will."
The condition of pleasure which is called in-

\ toxicatjon^jsjreallv an exalted feeling of power.

/ ... Sensations of space and time are altered ;
inordinate distances are traversed by the eye, and
only then become visible ; the extension of the
vision over greater masses and expanses ; the
refinement of the organ which apprehends the
smallest and most elusive things ; divination, the
power of understanding at the slightest hint, at
the smallest suggestion ; intelligent sensitiveness ;
strength as a feeling of dominion in the muscles,
as agility and love of movement, as dance, as
levity and quick time ; strength as the love of
proving strength, as bravado, adventurousness,
fearlessness, indifference in regard to life and
death. . . . All these elated moments of life
stimulate each other ; the world of images and of
imagination of the one suffices as a suggestion for
the other : in this way states finally merge into
each other, which might do better to keep apart,
e.g. the feeling of religious intoxication and sexual
irritability (two very profound feelings, always
wonderfully co-ordinated. What is it that pleases
almost all pious women, old or young ? Answer :
a saint with beautiful legs, still young, still in-
nocent). Cruelty in tragedy and pity (likewise!
normally correlated). Spring-time, dancing, music,j
— all these things are but the display of one sex
before the other, — as also that " infinite yearning
of the heart " peculiar to Faust.

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 243

p.

Artists when they are worth anything at all are
men of strong propensities (even physically), with
surplus energy, powerful animals, sensual ; without
a certain overheating of the sexual system a man
like Raphael is unthinkable. ... To produce
music is also in a sense to produce children ;
chastity is merely the economy of the artist, and
in all creative artists productiveness certainly
ceases with sexual potency. . . . Artists should
not see things as they are ; they should see them
fuller, simpler, stronger: to this end, however, a
kind of youthfulness, of vernal it y, a sort of per-
petual elation, must be peculiar to their lives.

801.

The states in which we transfigure things and
make them fuller, and rhapsodise about them,
until they reflect our own fulness and love of life '
back upon us: sexuality, intoxication, post-prandial
states, spring, triumph over our enemies, scorn,
bravado, cruelty, the ecstasy of religious feeling.
But three elements above all are active : sexuality, J
intoxication, cruelty ; all these belong to the oldest ^/
festal joys of mankind, they also preponderate in
budding artists.

Conversely : there are things with which we
meet which already show us this transfiguration
and fulness, and the animal world's response
thereto is a state of excitement in the spheres j
where these states of happiness originate. A
blending of these very delicate shades of animal
well-being and desires is the (Esthetic state. The \

244 THE WILL TO POWER.

latter only manifests itself in those natures which
are capable of that spendthrift and overflowing
fulness of bodily vigour; the latter is always the
priminn mobile. The sober-minded man, the
tired man, the exhausted and dried-up man {e.g.
the scholar), can have no feeling for art, because
he does not possess the primitive force of art,
which is the tyranny of inner riches: he who
cannot give anything away cannot feel anything
either.

"Perfection." — In these states (more particularly
in the case of sexual love) there is an ingenuous
betrayal of what the profoundest instinct regards
as the highest, the most desirable, the most
valuable, the ascending movement of its type;
also of the condition towards which it is actually

: striving. Perfection : the extraordinary expansion
of this instinct's feeling of power* its riches, its

I necessary overflowing of all banks.

802.

Art reminds us of states of physical vigour: it
may be the overflow and bursting forth of bloom-
ing life in the world of pictures and desires ; on
the other hand, it may be an excitation of the
physical functions by means of pictures and desires
of exalted life — an enhancement of the feeling of
life, the latter's stimulant.

To what extent can ugliness exercise this
power? In so far as it may communicate some-
thing of the triumphant energy of the artist who
has become master of the ugly and the repulsive ;

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 245

or in so far as it gently excites our lust -of cruelty
(in some circumstances even the lust of doing
harm to ourselves, self-violence, and therewith the
feeling of power over ourselves).

803.

" Beauty " therefore is, to the artist, something
which is above all order of rank, because in beauty
contrasts are overcome, the highest sign of power
thus manifesting itself in the conquest of opposites ;
and achieved without a feeling of tension : violence
being no longer necessary, everything submitting
and obeying so easily, and doing so with good
grace; this is what delights the powerful will of
the artist.

804.

The biological value of beauty and ugliness.
That which we feel instinctively opposed to us
aesthetically is, according to the longest experience
of mankind, felt to be harmful, dangerous, and
worthy of suspicion : the sudden utterance of the •
aesthetic instinct, e.g. in the case of loathing, im-
plies an act of judgment. To this extent beauty I
lies within the general category of the biological
values, useful, beneficent, and life - promoting : ;
thus, a host of stimuli which for ages have been
associated with, and remind us of, useful things
and conditions, give us the feeling of beauty, i.e.
the increase of the feeling of power (not only
things, therefore, but the sensations which are
associated with such things or their symbols).

^

246 THE WILL TO TOWER.

In this way beauty and ugliness are recognised
as determined by our most fundamental self-
preservative values. Apart from this, it is nonsense
to postulate anything as beautiful or ugly. Ab-
solute beauty exists just as little as absolute good-
ness and truth. In a particular case it is a matter
of the self- preservative conditions of a certain type
of man": thus the gregarious man wilPhave quite
a different feeling for beauty from the exceptional
or super-man.

It is the optics of things in the foreground
which only consider immediate consequences, from
which the value beauty (also goodness and truth)
arises.

AH instinctive judgments are short-sighted in
regard to the concatenation of consequences :
they merely advise what must be done forthwith.
Reason is essentially an obstructing apparatus
preventing the immediate response to instinctive
judgments : it halts, it calculates, it traces the
\ chain of consequences further.

Judgments concerning beauty and ugliness are
short-sighted (reason is always opposed to them) :
but they are convincing in the highest degree ;
they appeal to our instincts in that quarter where
the latter decide most quickly and say yes or no
with least hesitation, even before reason can
interpose.

The most common affirmations of beauty
stimulate each other reciprocally ; where the
aesthetic impulse once begins to work, a whole
host of other and foreign perfections crystallise
around the " particular form of beauty." It is

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 247

impossible to remain objective, it is certainly
impossible to dispense with the interpreting,
bestowing, transfiguring, and poetising power (the
latter is a stringing together of affirmations con-
cerning beauty itself). The sight of a beautiful
woman. . . .

Thus (1) judgment concerning beauty is short-
sighted ; it sees only the immediate consequences.

(2) It smothers the object which gives rise to
it with a charm that is determined by the associa-
tion of various judgments concerning beauty,
which, however, are quite alien to the essence of
the particular object. To regard a thing as beauti-
ful is necessarily to regard it falsely (that is why
incidentally love marriages are from the social '
point of view the most unreasonable form of
matrimony).

805.

Concerning the genesis of Art. — That making
perfect and seeing perfect, which is peculiar to the
cerebral system overladen with sexual energy (a
lover alone with his sweetheart at eventide trans-
figures the smallest details : life is a chain of
sublime things, " the misfortune of an unhappy
love affair is more valuable than anything else ") ;
on the other hand, everything perfect and beautiful
operates like an unconscious recollection of that
amorous condition and of the point of view
peculiar to it — all perfection, and the whole of
the beauty of things, through contiguity, revives
aphrodisiac bliss. (Physiologically it is the I
creative instinct of the artist and the distribution /

\

248 THE WILL TO POWER.

of his semen in his blood.) The desire for art
and beauty is an indirect longing for the ecstasy
of sexual desire, which gets communicated to the
brain. The world become perfect through " love."

(

806.

Sensuality in its various disguises. — ( 1 ) As
idealism (Plato), common to youth, constructing
a kind of concave-mirror in which the image of
the beloved is an incrustation, an exaggeration, a
transfiguration, an attribution of infinity to every-
thing. (2) In the religion of love, * a fine young
man," " a beautiful woman," in some way divine ;
a bridegroom, a bride of the soul. (3) In art, as
a decorating force, e.g. just as the man sees the
woman and makes her a present of everything
that can enhance her personal charm, so the
sensuality of the artist adorns an object with
everything else that he honours and esteems,
and by this means perfects it (or idealises it).
Woman, knowing what man feels in regard to
her, tries to meet his idealising endeavours half-
way by decorating herself, by walking and dancing
well, by expressing delicate thoughts : in addition,
she may practise modesty, shyness, reserve — •
prompted by her instinctive feeling that the ideal-
ising power of man increases with all this. (In
the extraordinary finesse of woman's instincts,
modesty must not by any means be considered as
conscious hypocrisy : she guesses that it is pre-
cisely artlessness and real shame which seduces
-•' man most and urges him to an exaggerated

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 249

esteem of her. On this account, woman is in-
genuous, owing to the subtlety of her instincts
which reveal to her the utility of a state of
innocence. A wilful closing of one's eyes

to one's self. . . . Wherever dissembling has a
stronger influence by being unconscious it actually
1 becomes unconscious.)

807.

What a host of things can be accomplished by
the state of intoxication which is called by the
name of love, and which is something else besides
love ! — And yet everybody has his own experience
of this matter. The muscular strength of a girl
suddenly increases as soon as a man comes into
her presence : there are instruments with which
this can be measured. In the case of a still closer
relationship of the sexes, as, for instance, in dancing
and in other amusements which society gatherings
entail, this power increases to such an extent
as to make real feats of strength possible : at
last one no longer trusts either one's eyes, or one's
watch ! Here at all events we must reckon with
the fact that dancing itself, like every form of
rapid movement, involves a kind of intoxication
of the whole nervous, muscular, and visceral
system. We must therefore reckon in this case
with the collective effects of a double intoxication.
— And how clever it is to be a little off your head
at times ! There are some realities which we /
cannot admit even to ourselves : especially when
we are women and have all sorts of feminine

7

250 THE WILL TO POWER.

"pudeurs" . . . Those young creatures dancing
over there are obviously beyond all reality : they
are dancing only with a host of tangible ideals :
what is more, they even see ideals sitting around
them, their mothers ! . . . An opportunity for
quoting Faust. They look incomparably fairer,
do tfyese pretty creatures, when they have lost
their head a little ; and how well they know it
too, they are even more delightful because they
know it ! Lastly, it is their finery which inspires
them : their finery is their third little intoxication.
They believe in their dressmaker as in their God :
and who would destroy this faith in them? Blessed
is this faith ! And self-admiration is healthy !
Self-admiration can protect one even from cold !
Has a beautiful woman, who knew she was well-
dressed, ever caught cold? Never yet on this
earth ! I even suppose a case in which she has
scarcely a rag on her.

808.

If one should require the most astonishing
A proof of how far the power of transfiguring, which
I comes of intoxication, goes, this proof is at hand
Yin the phenomenon of love ; or what is called love
in all the languages and silences of the world.
Intoxication works to such a degree upon reality
in this passion that in the consciousness of the
lover the cause of his love is quite suppressed, and
something else seems to take its place, — a vibra-
tion and a glitter of all the charm-mirrors of
/ Circe. ... In this respect to be man or an

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 25 1

animal makes no difference : and still less does
spirit, goodness, or honesty. If one is astute,
one is befooled astutely ; if one is thick-headed,
one is befooled in a thick-headed way. But love,
even the love of God, saintly love, " the love that
saves the soul," are at bottom all one; they are ,
nothing but a fever which has reasons to trans-
figure itselt — a state of intoxication which does j
well to lie about itself. . . . And, at any rate,
when a man loves, he is a good liar about himself
and to himself : he seems to himself transfigured,
stronger, richer, more perfect ; he is more per-
fect. . . . Art here acts as an organic function :
we find it present in the most angelic instinct
" love " ; we find it as the greatest stimulus of
life — thus art is sublimely utilitarian even in the
fa3'that"""it Hes% . . . But we should be wrong
to haltTaf its power to lie: it does more than
merely imagine; it actually transposes values. /, \S*
And it not only transposes the feeling for values :
the lover actually has a greater value; he is
stronger. In animals this condition gives rise to
new weapons, colours, pigments, and forms, and
above all to new movements, new rhythms, new
love-calls and seductions. In man it is just the
same. His whole economy is richer, mightier,
and more complete when he is in love than when
he is not. The lover becomes a spendthrift ; he
is rich enough for it. He now dares ; he becomes
an adventurer, and even a donkey in magnanimity
and innocence ; his belief in God and in virtue
revives, because he believes in love. Moreover,
such idiots of happiness acquire wings and new

252 THE WILL TO POWER.

capacities, and even the door to art is "opened to
them.

If we cancel the suggestion of this intestinal
fever from the lyric of tones and words, what is
left to poetry and music ? . . . Lart pour Part
perhaps ; the professional cant of frogs shivering
outside in the cold, and dying of despair in their
swamp. . . . Everything else was created by
love.

809.

All art works like a suggestion on the muscles
and the senses which were originally active in the
ingenuous artistic man ; its voice is only heard
by artists — it speaks to this kind of man, whose
constitution is attuned to such subtlety in sensi-
tiveness. The concept " layman " is a misnomer.
The deaf man is not a subdivision of the class/^^
whose ears are sound. All art works as a tonic ;
it increases strength, it kindles desire (i.e. the
feeling of strength), it excites all the more subtle
recollections of intoxication ; there is actually a
special kind of memory which underlies such
states — a distant flitful world of sensations here
returns to being.

Ugliness is the contradiction of art. It is that
which art excludes, the negation of art : wherever
decline, impoverishment of life, impotence, de-
composition, dissolution, are felt, however remotely,
the aesthetic man reacts with his No. Ugliness
depresses : it is the sign of depression. It robs
strength, it impoverishes, it weighs down. . . .
Ugliness suggests repulsive things. From one's

1

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 253

states of health one can test how an indisposition
may increase one's power of fancying ugly things.
One's selection of things, interests, and questions
becomes different. Logic provides a state which
is next of kin to ugliness : heaviness, bluntness.
In the presence of ugliness equilibrium is lacking
in a mechanical sense : ugliness limps and
stumbles — the direct opposite of the godly agility
of the dancer.

The aesthetic state represents an overflow of
means of communication as well as a condition of
extreme sensibility to stimuli and signs. It is
the zenith of communion and transmission
between living creatures ; it is the source of
languages. In it, languages, whether of signs,
sounds, or glances, have their birthplace. The
richer phenomenon is always the beginning : our
abilities are subtilised forms of richer abilities.
But even to-day we still listen with our muscles,
we even read with our muscles.

Eveiy mature art possesses a host of conventions
as a basis : in so far as it is a language. Con-
vention is a condition of great art, not an obstacle
to it. . . . Every elevation of life likewise elevates
the power of communication, as also the under-
standing of man. The power of living in other
people's souls originally had nothing to do with
morality, but with a physiological irritability of
suggestion : " sympathy," or what is called
" altruism," is merely a product of that psycho-
motor relationship which is reckoned as spirituality
(psycho-motor induction, says Charles Fer£).
People never communicate a thought to one

V

254 THE WILL TO POWER.

another: they communicate a movement, an
imitative sign which is then interpreted as a
thought.

810.

Compared with music, communication by means
of words is a shameless mode of procedure ; words
reduce and stultify ; words make impersonal ;
words make common that which is uncommon.

8ll.

/

It is exceptional states that determine the
artist — such states as are all intimately related
and entwined with morbid symptoms, so that it
would seem almost impossible to be an artist
without being ill.

The physiological conditions which in the artist
become moulded into a " personality," and which,
to a certain degree, may attach themselves to any
man : —

( i ) Intoxication, the feeling of enhanced power ;
the inner compulsion to make things a mirror of
one's own fulness and perfection.

(2) The extreme sharpness of certain senses,
so that they are capable of understanding a totally
different language of signs — and to create such a
language (this is a condition which manifests itself
in some nervous diseases) ; extreme susceptibility
out of which great powers of communion are
developed ; the desire to speak on the part of
everything that is capable of makings igns ; a need
of being rid of one's self by means of gestures

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 255

and attitudes ; the ability of speaking about one's
self in a hundred different languages — in fact, a
state of explosion.

One must first imagine this condition as one in
which there is a pressing and compulsory desire of
ridding one's self of the ecstasy of a state of tension,
by all kinds of muscular work and movement ;
also as an involuntary co-ordination of these move-
ments with inner processes (images, thoughts,
desires) — as a kind of automatism of the whole
muscular system under the compulsion of strong
stimuli acting from within ; the inability to ^
resist reaction ; the apparatus of resistance is
also suspended. Every inner movement (feeling,
thought, emotion) is accompanied by vascular
changes, and consequently by changes hTcoiour,
temperature, and secretion. The suggestive power
of music, its " suggestion mentale."

(3) The compulsion to imitate : extreme irritabil-
ity, by means of which a certain example becomes
contagious — a condition is guessed and represented
merely by means of a few signs. ... A complete
picture is visualised by one's inner consciousness,
and its effect soon shows itself in the movement
of the limbs, — in a ceVtain suspension of the will
(Schopenhauer ! ! ! !). A sort of blindness and
deafness towards the external world, — the realm
of admitted stimuli is sharply defined. r — '

This differentiates the artist from the layman
(from the spectator of art) : the latter reaches the
height of his excitement in the mere act of appre-
hending: the former in giving — and in such a way '-
that the antagonism between these two gifts is not

w

256 THE WILL TO POWER.

only natural but even desirable. Each of these states
has an opposite standpoint — to demand of the
artist that he should have the point of view of the
spectator (of the critic) is equivalent to asking
him to impoverish his creative power. ... In this
respect the same difference holds good as that which
exists between the sexes : one should not ask the
artist who gives to become a woman — to "receive."
Our aesthetics have hitherto been women's
aesthetics, inasmuch as they have only formulated
the experiences of what is beautiful, from the point
of view of the receivers in art. In the whole of
philosophy hitherto the artist has been lacking . . .
i.e. as we have already suggested, a necessary
fault: for the artist who would begin to under-
stand himself would therewith begin to mistake
himself — he must not look backwards, he must
not look at all ; he must give. — It is an honour
for an artist to have no critical faculty ; if he can
criticise he is mediocre, he is modern.

-** 812.

Here I lay down a series of psychological states
as signs of flourishing and complete life, which
to-day we are in the habit of regarding as morbid.
But, by this time, we have broken ourselves of
the habit of speaking of healthy and morbid as
opposites : the question is one of degree, — what
I maintain on this point is that what people call
healthy nowadays represents a lower level of that
which under favourable circumstances actually
would be healthy — that we are relatively sick. . . .

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 257

The artist belongs to a much stronger race. That V
which in us would be harmful and sickly, is natural
in him. But people object to this that it is pre-
cisely the impoverishment of the machine which
renders this extraordinary power of comprehending
every kind of suggestion possible : e.g. our hysteri-
cal females.

An overflow of spunk and energy may quite as
well lead to symptoms of partial constraint, sense
hallucinations, peripheral sensitiveness, as a poor
vitality does — the stimuli are differently deter-
mined, the effect is the same. . . . What is not
the same is above all the ultimate result ; the
extreme torpidity of all morbid natures, after their
nervous eccentricities, has nothing in common with
the states of the artist, who need in no wise
repent his best moments. . . . He is rich enough
for it all : he can squander without becoming
poor.

Just as we now feel justified in judging genius j
as a form of neurosis, we may perhaps think the
same of artistic suggestive power, — and our
artists are, as a matter of fact, only too closely
related to hysterical females ! ! ! This, however,
is only an argument against the present day, and
not against artists in general.

The inartistic states are : objectivity, reflection
suspension of the will . . . (Schopenhauer's scandal-
ous misunderstanding consisted in regarding art as
a mere bridge to the denial of life) . . . The in-
artistic states are : those which impoverish, which
subtract, which bleach, under which life suffers —
the Christian.

vol. 11. R

258 THE WILL TO POWER.

813.

The modern artist who, in his physiology, is
next of kin to the hysteric, may also be classified
as a character belonging to this state of morbid-
ness. The hysteric is false, — he lies from the
love of lying, he is admirable in all the arts of
dissimulation, — unless his morbid vanity hood-
wink him. This vanity is like a perpetual fever
which is in need of stupefying drugs, and which
recoils from no self-deception and no farce that
promises it the most fleeting satisfaction. (The
incapacity for pride and the need of continual
revenge for his deep-rooted self-contempt, — this is
almost the definition of this man's vanity.)

The absurd irritability of his system, which
makes a crisis out of every one of his experiences,
and sees dramatic elements in the most insignifi-
cant occurrences of life, deprives him of all calm
reflection : he ceases from being a personality, at
most he is a rendezvous of personalities of which
first one and then the other asserts itself with
barefaced assurance. Precisely on this account he
is great as an actor : all these poor will-less people,
whom doctors study so profoundly, astound one
through their virtuosity in mimicking, in trans-
figuration, in their assumption of almost any
character required.

814.

Artists are not men of great passion, despite all
their assertions to the contrary both to themselves
and to others. And for the following two reasons :

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 259

they lack all shyness towards themselves (they
watch themselves live, they spy upon themselves,
they are much too inquisitive), and they also lack
shyness in the presence of passion (as artists they
exploit it). Secondly, however, that vampire,
their talent, generally forbids them such an ex-
penditure of energy as passion demands. — A man
who has a talent is sacrificed to that talent ; he
lives under the vampirism of his talent.

A man does not get rid of his passion by re-
producing it, but rather he is rid of it if he is able
to reproduce it. (Goethe teaches the reverse, but
it seems as though he deliberately misunderstood
himself here — from a sense of delicacy.)

815.

Concerning a reasonable mode of life. — .Relative
chastity, a fundamental and shrewd caution in
regard to erotica, even in thought, may be a reason-
able mode of life even in richly equipped and
perfect natures. But this principle applies more
particularly to artists ; it belongs to the best
wisdom of their lives. Wholly trustworthy voices
have already been raised in favour of this view,
e.g. Stendhal, Th. Gautier, and Flaubert. The artist
is perhaps in his way necessarily a sensual man,
generally susceptible, accessible to everything, and
capable of responding to the remotest stimulus or
suggestion of a stimulus. Nevertheless, as a rule
he is in the power of his work, of his will to
mastership, really a sober and often even a chaste
man. His dominating instinct will have him so :

JJOL

\J

260 THE WILL TO POWER.

it does not allow him to spend himself haphazardly.
It is one and the same form of strength which is
spent in artistic conception and in the sexual
i act: there is only one form of strength. The
artist who yields in this respect, and who spends
himself, is betrayed : by so doing he reveals his
lack of instinct, his lack of will in general. It
may be a sign of decadence, — in any case it re-
duces the value of his art to an incalculable
degree.

816.

Compared with the artist, the scientific man,
regarded as a phenomenon, is indeed a sign of a
certain storing-up and levelling-down of life (but
also of an increase of strength, severity, hardness,
and will-power). To what extent can falsity and
indifference towards truth and utility be a sign of
youth, of childishness, in the artist? . . . Their
habitual manner, their unreasonableness, their
ignorance of themselves, their indifference to
" eternal values," their seriousness in play, their
lack of dignity; clowns and gods in one; the
saint and therabble. . . . Imitation as an imperi-
ous instinct. — Do not artists of ascending life and
artists of degeneration belong to all phases ? . . .
Yes!

817.

Would any link be missing in the whole chain
of science and art, if woman, if woman's work, were
excluded from it? Let us acknowledge the

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 26l

exception — it proves the rule — that woman is
capable of perfection in everything which does not
constitute a work : in letters, in memoirs, in the
most intricate handiwork — in short, in everything
which is not a craft ; and just precisely because in
the things mentioned woman perfects herself, be-
cause in them she obeys the only artistic impulse
in her nature, — which is to captivate. . . . But
what has woman to do with the passionate indiffer-
ence of the genuine artist who sees more importance
in a breath, in a sound, in the merest trifle, than in
himself? — who with all his five fingers gropes for
his most secret and hidden treasures ? — who attri-
butes no value to anything unless it knows how to
take shape (unless it surrenders itself, unless it
visualises itself in some way). Art as it is
practised by artists — do you not understand what
it is ? is it not an outrage on all our pudeurs ? . . .
Only in this century has woman dared to try her
hand at literature ( " Vers la canaille plumikre e'criv-
assiere" to speak with old Mirabeau) : woman now
writes, she now paints, she is losing her instincts.
And to what purpose, if one may put such a
question ?

818

A man is an artist to the extent to which he
regards everything that inartistic people call
" form " as the actual substance, as the " prin-
cipal " thing. With such ideas a man certainly
belongs to a world upside down : for hencefor-
ward substance seems to him something merely
formal, — his own life included.

262 THE WILL TO POWER.

819.

A sense for, and a delight in, nuances (which is
characteristic of modernity), in that which is not
general, runs counter to the instinct which finds
its joy and its strength in grasping what is typical :
like Greek taste in its best period. In this there
is an overcoming of the plenitude of life ; restraint
dominates, the peace of the strong soul which is
slow to move and which feels a certain repug-
nance towards excessive activity is defeated. The
general rule, the law, is honoured and made
prominent : conversely, the exception is laid aside,
and shades are suppressed. All that which is firm,
mighty, solid, life resting on a broad and powerful
basis, concealing its strength — this " pleases " : i.e.
it corresponds with what we think of ourselves.

820.

In the main I am much more in favour of
artists than any philosopher that has appeared
hitherto : artists, at least, did not lose sight of the
great course which life pursues ; they loved the

I things " of this world," — they loved their senses.

* To strive after " spirituality," in cases where this
is not pure hypocrisy or self-deception, seems to
me to be either a misunderstanding, a disease, or a
cure. I wish myself, and all those who live with-
out the troubles of a puritanical conscience, and
who are able to live in this way, an ever greater
spiritualisation and multiplication of the senses.
Indeed, we would fain be grateful to the senses for

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 263

their subtlety, power, and plenitude, and on that
account offer them the best we have in the way of
spirit. What do we care about priestly and meta-
physical anathemas upon the senses? We no
longer require to treat them in this way : it is
a sign of well-constitutedness when a man like
Goethe clings with ever greater joy and heartiness
to the " things of this world " — in this way he
holds firmly to the grand concept of mankind,
which is that man becomes the glorifying power J
of existence when he learns to glorify himself. J

821.

Pessimism in art? — The artist gradually learns
to like for their own sake, those means which
bring about the condition of aesthetic elation ;
extreme delicacy and glory of colour, definite
delineation, quality of tone ; distinctness where in
normal conditions distinctness is absent. All
distinct things, all nuances, in so far as they recall
extreme degrees of power which give rise to
intoxication, kindle this feeling of intoxication by
association ; — the effect of works of art is the
excitation of the state which creates art, of aesthetic
intoxication.

The essential feature in art is its power of
perfecting existence, its production of perfection
and plenitude ; art is essentially the affirmation,
the blessing, and the deification of existence. . . .
What does a pessimistic art signify ? Is it not a
contradictio ? — Yes. — Schopenhauer is in error
when he makes certain works of art serve the

I

264 THE WILL TO POWER.

purpose of pessimism. Tragedy does not teach
" resignation." ... To represent terrible and
questionable things is, in itself, the sign of an
instinct of power and magnificence in the artist ;
he doesn't fear them. . . . There is no such thing
as a pessimistic art. . . /Art affirms. Job
affirms. But Zola? and the Goncourts? — the
things they show us are ugly ; their reason, however,
for showing them to us is their love of ugliness. . .
I don't care what you say ! You simply deceive
yourselves if you think otherwise. — What a relief
Dostoievsky is !

822.

If I have sufficiently initiated my readers into
the doctrine that even " goodness," in the whole
comedy of existence, represents a form of exhaus-
tion, they will now credit Christianity with con-
sistency for having conceived the good to be the
ugly. In this respect Christianity was right.

It is absolutely unworthy of a philosopher to
say that " the good and the beautiful are one " ; if
he should add " and also the true," he deserves to
be thrashed. Truth is ugly.

Art is with us in order that we may not perish
through truth.

823.

Moralising tendencies may be combated with
art. Art is freedom from moral bigotry and
philosophy a la Little Jack Horner : or it may be
the mockery of these things. The flight to Nature,

1/

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 265

where beauty and terribleness are coupled. The
concept of the great man.

— Fragile, useless souls-de-luxe, which are dis-
concerted by a mere breath of wind, " beautiful
souls."

— Ancient ideals, in their inexorable hardness and
brutality, ought to be awakened, as the mightiest
of monsters that they are.

— We should feel a boisterous delight in the
psychological perception of how all moralised
artists become worms and actors without know-
ing it.

— The falsity of art, its immorality, must be
brought into the light of day.

— The " fundamental idealising powers " (sensu-
ality, intoxication, excessive animality) should be
brought to light.

824.

Modern counterfeit practices in the arts : regarded
as necessary — that is to say, as fully in keeping
with the needs most proper to the modern soul.

The gaps in the gifts, and still more in the
education, antecedents, and schooling of modern
artists, are now filled up in this way : —

First: A less artistic public is sought which is
capable of unlimited love (and is capable of
falling on its knees before a personality). The
superstition of our century, the belief in " genius,"
assists this process.

Secondly ; Artists harangue the dark instincts of
the dissatisfied, the ambitious, and the self-deceivers
of a democratic age : the importance of poses.

266 THE WILL TO POWER.

Thirdly : The procedures of one art are trans-
ferred to the realm of another ; the object of art is
confounded with that of science, with that of the
Church, or with that of the interests of the race
(nationalism), or with that of philosophy — a man
rings all bells at once, and awakens the vague
suspicion that he is a god.

Fourthly : Artists flatter women, sufferers, and
indignant folk. Narcotics and opiates are made to-
preponderate in art. The fancy of cultured people,
and of the readers of poetry and ancient history,
is tickled.

825.

We must distinguish between the " public " and
the " select " ; to satisfy the public a man must be
a charlatan to-day, to satisfy the select he will be
a virtuoso and nothing else. The geniuses peculiar
to our century overcame this distinction, they
were great for both; the great charlatanry of
Victor Hugo and Richard Wagner was coupled
with such genuine virtuosity that it even satisfied
the most refined artistic connoisseurs. This is
why greatness is lacking : these geniuses had a
i double outlook ; first, they catered for the coarsest
needs, and then for the most refined.

826.

False "accentuation": (1) In romanticism;
this unremitting " expressivo" is not a sign of
strength, but of a feeling of deficiency ;

(2) Picturesque music, the so-called dramatic

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 267

kind, is above all easier (as is also the brutal
scandalmongering and the juxtaposition of facts
and traits in realistic novels) ;

(3) "Passion" as a matter of nerves and exhausted
souls ; likewisethedelightin high mountains, deserts,
storms, orgies, and disgusting details, — in bulkiness
and massiveness (historians, for instance) ; as a matter
of fact, there is actually a cult of exaggerated feel-
ings (how is it that in stronger ages art desired
just the opposite — a restraint of passion ?) ;

(4) The preference for exciting materials {Erotica
or Socialistica or Pathologicd) : all these things are
the signs of the style of public that is being
catered for to-day — that is to say, for overworked,
absentminded, or enfeebled people.

Such people must be tyrannised over in order
to be affected.

827.

Modern art is the art of tyrannising. A coarse
and salient definiteness in delineation ; the motive
simplified into a formula; formulae tyrannise.
Wild arabesques within the lines ; overwhelming
masses, before which the senses are confused ;
brutality in coloration, in subject-matter, in the
desires. Examples : Zola, Wagner, and, in a
more spiritualised degree, Taine. Hence logic,
massiveness, and brutality.

828.

In regard to the painter : Tons ces modernes sont
des pokes qui ont voulu etre peintres, Lun a

1

V

268 THE WILL TO POWER.

cherche' des drames dans rhistoiret V autre des scenes
de moeurs, celui ci traduit des religions, celui la une
philosophie. One imitates Raphael, another the
early Italian masters. The landscapists employ-
trees and clouds in order to make odes and
elegies. Not one is simply a painter ; they are
all archaeologists, psychologists, and impresarios
of one or another kind of event or theory. They
enjoy our erudition and our philosophy. Like us,
they are full, and too full, of general ideas. They
like a form, not because it is what it is, but
because of what it expresses. They are the scions
of a learned, tormented, and reflecting generation,
a thousand miles away from the Old Masters who
never read, and only concerned themselves with
feasting their eyes.

829.

At bottom, even Wagner's music, in so far as it
stands for the whole of French romanticism, is
literature : the charm of exoticism (strange times,
customs, passions), exercised upon sensitive cosy-
corner people. The delight of entering into ex-
tremely distant and prehistoric lands to which
books lead one, and by which means the whole
horizon is painted with new colours and new
possibilities. . . . Dreams of still more distant
nd unexploited worlds ; disdain of the boulevards.
. . . For Nationalism, let us not deceive ourselves,
is also only a form of exoticism. . . . Romantic
musicians merely relate what exotic books have
made of them : people would fain experience
exotic sensations and passions according to

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 269

Florentine and Venetian taste ; finally they are
satisfied to look for them in an image. . . . The
essential factor is the kind of novel desire, the
desire to imitate, the desire to live as people have
lived once before in the past, and the disguise and
dissimulation of the soul. . . . Romantic art is
only an emergency exit from defective " reality."

The attempt to perform new things : revolution, I
Napoleon. Napoleon represents the passion of
new spiritual possibilities, of an extension of the 1
soul's domain.

The greater the debility of the will, the greater
the extravagances in the desire to feel, to repre-
sent, and to dream new things. — The result of
the excesses which have been indulged in : an
insatiable thirst for unrestrained feelings. . . .
Foreign literatures afford the strongest spices.

830.

Winckelmann's and Goethe's Greeks, Victor
Hugo's Orientals, Wagner's Edda characters,
Walter Scott's Englishmen of the thirteenth
century — some day the whole comedy will be
exposed ! All of it was disproportionately
historical and false, but — modern.

831.

Concerning the characteristics of national
genius in regard to the strange and to the
borrowed —

English genius vulgarises and makes realistic
everything it sees ;

270 THE WILL TO POWER.

The French whittles down, simplifies, rational-
ises, embellishes ;

The German muddles, compromises, involves,
and infects everything with morality ;

The Italian has made by far the freest and
most subtle use of borrowed material, and has
enriched it with a hundred times more beauty
than it ever drew out of it : it is the richest
genius, it had the most to bestow.

832.

The Jews, with Heinrich Heine and Offenbach,
approached genius in the sphere of art. The
latter was the most intellectual and most high-
spirited satyr, who as a musician abided by great
tradition, and who, for him who has something
more than ears, is a real relief after the senti-
mental and, at bottom, degenerate musicians of
German romanticism.

833.

Offenbach: French music imbued with Voltaire's
intellect, free, wanton, with a slight sardonic grin,
but clear and intellectual almost to the point of
banality (Offenbach never titivates), and free
from the mignardise of morbid or blond-Viennese
sensuality.

834.

If by artistic genius we understand the most
consummate freedom within the law, divine
lease, and facility in overcoming the greatest

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 2J\

difficulties, then Offenbach has even more right to
the title genius than Wagner has. Wagner is
heavy and clumsy: nothing is more foreign to
him than the moments of wanton perfection
which this clown Offenbach achieves as many as
five times, six times, in nearly every one of his
buffooneries. But by genius we ought perhaps
to understand something else.

835.

Concerning " music!' — French, German, and
Italian music. (Our most debased periods in a
political sense are our most productive. The
Slavs ?) — The ballet, which is the outcome of
excessive study of the history of strange civilisa-
tions, has become master of opera. — Stage music
and musicians' music. — It is an error to suppose
that what Wagner composed was a form : it was
rather formlessness. The possibilities of dramatic
construction have yet to be discovered. — Rhythm.
" Expression " at all costs. Harlotry in instru-
mentation.— All honour to Heinrich Schutz; all
honour to Mendelssohn : in them we find an
element of Goethe, but nowhere else ! (We also
find another element of Goethe coming to blossom
in Rahel ; a third element in Heinrich Heine.)

836.

Descriptive music leaves reality to work its
effects alone. ... All these kinds of art are
easier, and more easy to imitate ; poorly gifted

272 THE WILL TO POWER.

people have recourse to them. The appeal to
the instincts ; suggestive art.

837-

Concerning our modern music. — The decay of
melody, like the decay of " ideas," and of the
freedom of intellectual activity, is a piece of
clumsiness and obtuseness, which is developing
itself into new feats of daring and even into
principles ; — in the end man has only the prin-
ciples of his gifts, or of his lack of gifts.

" Dramatic music " — nonsense ! It is simply
bad music. ..." Feeling " and " passion " are
merely substitutes when lofty intellectuality and
the joy of it {e.g. Voltaire's) can no longer be
attained. Expressed technically, " feeling " and
" passion " are easier ; they presuppose a much
poorer kind of artist. The recourse to drama be-
trays that an artist is much more a master in tricky
means than in genuine ones. To-day we have
both dramatic painting and dramatic poetry, etc.

838.

What we lack in music is an aesthetic which
would impose laws upon musicians and give them
a conscience ; and as a result of this we lack a
real contest concerning " principles." — For as
musicians we laugh at Herbart's velleities in this
department just as heartily as we laugh at
Schopenhauer's. As a matter of fact, tremendous
difficulties present themselves here. We no

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 2?3

longer know on what basis to found our concepts
of what is " exemplary," " masterly," " perfect."
With the instincts of old loves and old admiration
we grope about in a realm of values, and we almost
believe, " that is good which pleases us." ... I
am always suspicious when I hear people every-
where speak innocently of Beethoven as a "classic ":
what I would maintain, and with some severity, is
that, in other arts, a classic is the very reverse of
Beethoven. But when the complete and glaring
dissolution of style, Wagner's so-called dramatic
style, is taught and honoured as exemplary, as
masterly, as progressive, then my impatience
exceeds all bounds. Dramatic style in music, as
Wagner understood it, is simply renunciation
of all style whatever ; it is the assumption that
something else, namely, drama, is a hundred times
more important than music. Wagner can paint ;
he does not use music for the sake of music, wittT
it he accentuates attitudes ; he is a poet. Finally
he made an appeal to beautiful feelings and
heaving breasts, just as all other theatrical artists
have done, and with it all he converted women
and even those whose souls thirst for culture to
him. But what do women and the uncultured
care about music ? All these people have no
conscience for art : none of them suffer when the
first and fundamental virtues of an art are scorned
and trodden upon in favour of that which is merely
secondary (as ancilla dramaturgicd). What good
can come of all extension in the means of expression,
when that which is expressed, art itself, has lost all
its law and order? The picturesque pomp and power

VOL. II. S

274 THE WILL TO POWER.

of tones, the symbolism of sound, rhythm, the colour
effects of harmony and discord, the suggestive
significance of music, the whole sensuality of this
art which Wagner made prevail— it is all this that
Wagner derived, developed, and drew out of music.
Victor Hugo did something very similar for
language : but already people in France are
asking themselves, in regard to the case of Victor
Hugo, whether language was not corrupted by
him ; whether reason, intellectuality, and thorough
conformity to law in language are not suppressed
when the sensuality of expression is elevated to
a high place ? Is it not a sign of decadence that
the poets in Fraace have become plastic artists,
and that the musicians of Germany have become
actors and culturemongers ?

839.

To-day there exists a sort of musical pes-
simism even among people who are not musi-
cians. Who has not met and cursed the
confounded youthlet who torments his piano
until it shrieks with despair, and who single-
handed heaves the slime of the most lugubrious
and drabby harmonies before him? By so
doing a man betrays himself as a pessimist. . . .
It is open to question, though, whether he also
proves himself a musician by this means. I
for my part could never be made to believe it.
A Wagnerite pur sang is unmusical ; he submits
'to the elementary forces of music very much
as a woman submits to the will of the man
who hypnotises her — and in order to be able to

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 275

do this he must not be made suspicious in rebus
musicis et musicantibus by a "too severe or too
delicate conscience. I said " very much as " —
but in this respect I spoke perhaps more than
a parable. Let any one consider the means
which Wagner uses by preference, when he wishes
to make an effect (means which for the greater
part he first had to invent) ; they are appallingly
similar to the means by which a hypnotist
exercises his power (the choice of his movements,
the general colour of his orchestration ; the
excruciating evasion of consistency, and fairness
and squareness, in rhythm ; the creepiness, the
soothing touch, the mystery, the hysteria of his
" unending melody "). And is the condition to
which the overture to Lohengrin, for instance,
reduces the men, and still more the women, in
the audience, so essentially different from the
somnambulistic trance? On one occasion after
the overture in question had been played, I heard
an Italian lady say, with her eyes half closed,
in a way in which female Wagnerites are adepts :
" Come si dorme con questa musica ! " *

840.

Religion in music. — What a large amount of
satisfaction all religious needs get out of Wag-
nerian music, though this is never acknowledged
or even understood ! How much prayer, virtue,
unction, "virginity," "salvation," speaks through
this music ! ... Oh what capital this cunning

* " How the music makes one sleep ! " — Tr.

276 THE WILL TO POWER.

saint, who leads and seduces us back to every-
thing that was once believed in, makes out of
the fact that he may dispense with words and
concepts ! . . . Our intellectual conscience has no
need to feel ashamed — it stands apart — if any old
instinct puts its trembling lips to the rim of forbid-
den philtres. . . . This is shrewd and healthy, and,
in so far as it betrays a certain shame in regard to
the satisfaction of the religious instinct, it is even
a good sign. . . . Cunning Christianity : the type
of the music which came from the u last Wagner."

841.

I distinguish between courage before persons,
courage before things, and courage on paper.
The latter was the courage of David Strauss,
for instance. I distinguish again between the
courage before witnesses and the courage without
witnesses: the courage of a Christian, or of be-
lievers in God in general, can never be the cour-
age without witnesses — but on this score alone
Christian courage stands condemned. Finally, I
distinguish between the courage which is tempera-
mental and the courage which is the fear of fear ; a
single instance of the latter kind is moral courage.
To this list the courage of despair should be added.

This is the courage which Wagner possessed.
His attitude in regard to music was at bottom a
desperate one. He lacked two things which go
to make up a good musician : nature and nurture,
the predisposition for music and the discipline and
schooling which music requires. He had courage :
out of this deficiency he established a principle ;

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 277

he invented a kind of music for himself. The
dramatic music which he invented was the music
which he was able to compose, — its limitations are
Wagner's limitations.

And he was misunderstood ! — Was he really
misunderstood ? . . . Such is the case with five-
sixths of the artists of to-day. Wagner is their
Saviour : five-sixths, moreover, is the " lowest pro-
portion." In any case where Nature has shown
herself without reserve, and wherever culture is an
accident, a mere attempt, a piece of dilettantism,
the artist turns instinctively — what do I say ? —
I mean enthusiastically, to Wagner ; as the poet
says : " Half drew he him, and half sank he." *

842.

")

" Music and the grand style. The greatness
of an artist is not to be measured by the beautiful
feelings which he evokes : let this belief be left to
the girls. It should be measured according to
the extent to which he approaches the grand style,
according to the extent to which he is capable of
the grand style. This style and great passion
have this in common — that they scorn to please ;
that they forget to persuade ; that they command ;
that they will. ... To become master of the
chaos which is in one ; to compel one's inner chaos
to assume form ; to become consistent, simple, un-
equivocal, mathematical, law — this is the great
ambition here. By means of it one repels ; nothing

* This is an adapted quotation from Goethe's poem, " The
Fisherman." The translation is E. A. Bowring's.— Tr.

278 THE WILL TO POWER.

so much endears people to such powerful men as
this, — a desert seems to lie around them, they
impose silence upon all, and awe every one with,
the greatness of their sacrilege. . . . All arts
know this kind of aspirant to the grand style:
why are they absent in music ? Never yet has a
musician built as that architect did who erected the
Palazzo Pitti. . . . This is a problem. Does music
perhaps belong to that culture in which the reign
of powerful men of various types is already at an
end ? Is the concept " grand style " in fact a con-
tradiction of the soul of music, — of " the woman "
in our music ? . . .

With this I touch upon the cardinal question:
how should all our music be classified ? The age
of classical taste knows nothing that can be com-
pared with it : it bloomed when the world of the
Renaissance reached its evening, when " freedom "
had already bidden farewell to both men and
their customs — is it characteristic of music to be
Counter- Renaissance ? Is music, perchance, the
sister of the baroque style, seeing that in any case
they were contemporaries ? Is not music, modern
music, already decadence? . . .

I have put my finger before on this question :
whether music is not an example of Counter-
Renaissance art? whether it is not the next of
kin to the baroque style? whether it has not
grown in opposition to all classic taste, so that any
aspiration to classicism is forbidden by the very
nature of music ?

The answer to this most important of all
questions of values would not be a very doubtful

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 279

one, if people thoroughly understood the fact that
music attains to its highest maturity and plenitude
as romanticism — likewise as a reactionary move-
ment against classicism.

Mozart, a delicate and lovable soul, but quite
eighteenth century, even in his serious lapses . . .
Beethoven, the first great romanticist according to
the French conception of romanticism, just as
Wagner is the last great romanticist . . . both
of them are instinctive opponents of classical
taste, of severe style — not to speak of " grand "
in this regard.

843.

Romanticism : an ambiguous question, like all

modern questions.

The aesthetic conditions are twofold : —

The abundant and generous, as opposed to the

seeking and the desiring.

844. try

A romanticist is an artist whose great dis-/ . y
\ satisfaction with himself makes him productive — * r -'
xwho looks away from himself and his fellows, and\ 1
sometimes, therefore, looks backwards.

845.

Is art the result of dissatisfaction with reality ? "L
or is it the expression of gratitude for happiness
experienced ? In the first case, it is romanticism ;
in the second, it is glorification and dithyramb (in
short, apotheosis art) ; even Raphael belongs to
this, except for the fact that he was guilty of the

280 THE WILL TO POWER.

duplicity of having defied the appearance of the
Christian view of the world. He was thankful for
life precisely where it was not exactly Christian.

With a moral interpretation the world is in-
sufferable ; Christianity was the attempt to over-
come the world with morality : i.e. to deny it. In
praxi such a mad experiment — an imbecile eleva-
tion of man above the world — could only end in
the beglooming, the dwarfing, and the impoverish-
ment of mankind : the only kind of man who
gained anything by it, who was promoted by it,
was the most mediocre, the most harmless and
gregarious type.

Homer as an apotheosis artist ; Rubens also.
Music has not yet had such an artist.

The idealisation of the great criminal (the
feeling for his greatness) is Greek ; the deprecia-
tion, the slander, the contempt of the sinner, is
Judaeo-Christian.

846.

Romanticism and its opposite. In regard to
all aesthetic values I now avail myself of this
fundamental distinction : in every individual case
I ask myself has hunger or has superabundance
been creative here? At first another distinction
might perhaps seem preferable, — it is far more
obvious, — e.g. the distinction which decides whether
a desire for stability, for eternity, for Being, or
whether a desire for destruction, for change, for
Becoming, has been the cause of creation. But
both kinds of desire, when examined more closely,
prove to be ambiguous, and really susceptible of

\

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 28 1

interpretation only according to that scheme already
mentioned and which I think is rightly preferred.

The desire for destruction, for change, for Be-
coming, may be the expression of an overflowing
power pregnant with promises for the future (my
term for this, as is well known, is Dionysian) ;
it may, however, also be the hate of the ill-con-
stituted, of the needy and of the physiologically
botched, that destroys, and must destroy, because
such creatures are indignant at, and annoyed by
everything lasting and stable.

The act of immortalising can, on the other hand,
be the outcome of gratitude and love: an art
which has this origin is always an apotheosis art ;
dithyrambic, as perhaps with Rubens ; happy, as
perhaps with Hafiz ; bright and gracious, and shed-
ding a ray of glory over all things, as in Goethe.
But it may also, however, be the outcome of the
tyrannical will of the great sufferer who would
make the most personal, individual, and narrow trait
about him, the actual idiosyncrasy of his pain — in
fact, into a binding law and imposition, and who
thus wreaks his revenge upon all things by stamp-
ing, branding, and violating them with the image of
his torment. The latter case is romantic pessim-
ism in its highest form, whether this be Schopen-
hauerian voluntarism or Wagnerian music.

847.

It is a question whether the antithesis, classic and
romantic, does not conceal that other antithesis, the
active and the reactive.

282

THE WILL TO POWER.

848.

In order to be a classic, one must be possessed
of all the strong and apparently contradictory gifts
and passions : but in such a way that they run in
harness together, and culminate simultaneously in
elevating a certain species of literature or art or
politics to its height and zenith (they must not do
this after that elevation has taken place . . .). They
must reflect the complete state (either of a people
or of a culture), and express its most profound and
most secret nature, at a time when it is still stable
and not yet discoloured by the imitation of foreign
things (or when it is still dependent . . .) ; not
a reactive but a deliberate and progressive spirit,
saying Yea in all circumstances, even in its
hate.

" And does not the highest personal value belong
thereto ? "... It is worth considering whether
moral prejudices do not perhaps exercise their in-
fluence here, and whether great moral loftiness is
not perhaps a contradiction of the classical ? . . .
Whether the moral monsters must not necessarily
be romantic in word and deed? Any such pre-
ponderance of one virtue over others (as in the
case of the moral monster) is precisely what with
most hostility counteracts the classical power in
equilibrium ; supposing a people manifested this
moral loftiness and were classical notwithstanding,
we should have to conclude boldly that they were
also on the same high level in immorality ! this
was perhaps the case with Shakespeare (provided
that he was really Lord Bacon).

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 283

849.

Concerning the future. Against the romanticism
of great passion. — We must understand how a
certain modicum of coldness, lucidity, and hard-
ness is inseparable from all classical taste: above
all consistency, happy intellectuality, " the three
unities," concentration, hatred of all feeling, of all
sentimentality, of all esprit, hatred of all multi-
formity, of all uncertainty, evasiveness, and of all
nebulosity, as also of all brevity, finicking, pretti-
ness and good nature. Artistic formulas must not
be played with : life must be remodelled so that
it should be forced to formulate itself accordingly.

It is really an exhilarating spectacle which we
have only learned to laugh at quite recently, be-
cause we have only seen through it quite recently : ,
this spectacle of Herder's, Winckelmann's, Goethe's, *
and Hegel's contemporaries claiming that they had |
rediscovered the classical ideal . . . and at the same
time, Shakespeare ! And this same crew of men
had scurvily repudiated all relationship with the
classical school of France ! As if the essential
principle could not have been learnt as well here
as elsewhere ! . . . But what people wanted was
" nature," and " naturalness " : Oh, the stupidity of
it ! It was thought that classicism was a kind of
naturalness !

Without either prejudice or indulgence we should
try and investigate upon what soil a classical taste
can be evolved. The hardening, the simplification,
the strengthening, and the bedevilling of man are
inseparable from classical taste. Logical and

284 THE WILL TO POWER.

psychological simplification. A contempt of de-
tail, of complexity, of obscurity.

The romanticists of Germany do not protest
against classicism, but against reason, against
illumination, against taste, against the eighteenth
century.

The essence of romantico- Wagnerian music is
the opposite of the classical spirit.

The will to unity (because unity tyrannises : e.g.
the listener and the spectator), but the artist's in-
ability to tyrannise over himself where it is most
needed — that is to say, in regard to the work it-
self (in regard to knowing what to leave out, what
to shorten, what to clarify, what to simplify). The
overwhelming by means of masses (Wagner, Victor
Hugo, Zola, Taine).

850.

The Nihilism of artists. — Nature is cruel in
her cheerfulness ; cynical in her sunrises. We are
hostile to emotions. We flee thither where Nature
moves our senses and our imagination, where we
have nothing to love, where we are not reminded
of the moral semblances and delicacies of this
northern nature ; and the same applies to the arts.
We prefer that which no longer reminds us of
good and evil. Our moral sensibility and tender-
ness seem to be relieved in the heart of terrible
and happy Nature, in the fatalism of the senses and
forces. Life without goodness.

Great well-being arises from contemplating
Nature's indifference to good and evil.

No justice in history, no goodness in Nature.

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 285

That is why the pessimist when he is an artist
prefers those historical subjects where the absence
of justice reveals itself with magnificent simplicity,
where perfection actually comes to expression —
and likewise he prefers that in Nature, where her
callous evil character is not hypocritically concealed,
where that character is seen in perfection. . . .
The Nihilistic artist betrays himself in willing and
preferring cynical history and cynical Nature.

851.

What is tragic ? — Again and again I have
pointed to the great misunderstanding of Aristotle
in maintaining that the tragic emotions were the
two depressing emotions — fear and pity. Had he
been right, tragedy would be an art unfriendly to
life : it would have been necessary to caution people
against it as against something generally harmful
and suspicious. Art, otherwise the great stimulus
of life, the great intoxicant of life, the great will
to life, here became a tool of decadence, the hand-
maiden of pessimism and ill-health (for to sup-
pose, as Aristotle supposed, that by exciting these
emotions we thereby purged people of them, is
simply an error). Something which habitually
excites fear or pity, disorganises, weakens, and dis-
courages : and supposing Schopenhauer were
right in thinking that tragedy taught resignation
{i.e. a meek renunciation of happiness, hope, and
of the will to live), this would presuppose an art
in which art itself was denied. Tragedy would
then constitute a process of dissolution ; the in-
stinct of life would destroy itself in the instinct of

\

286 THE WILL TO POWER.

art. Christianity, Nihilism, tragic art, physiological
decadence ; these things would then be linked,
they would then preponderate together and assist
each other onwards — downwards. . . . Tragedy
would thus be a symptom of decline.

This theory may be refuted in the most cold-
blooded way, namely, by measuring the effect of
a tragic emotion by means of a dynamometer
The result would be a fact which only the bottom-
less falsity of a doctrinaire could misunderstand :
that tragedy is a tonic. If Schopenhauer refuses
to see the truth here, if he regards general depres-
sion as a tragic condition, if he would have informed
the Greeks (who to his disgust were not "re-
signed ") that they did not firmly possess the
highest principles of life: it is only owing to
his parti flris, to the need of consistency in his
system, to the dishonesty of the doctrinaire — that
dreadful dishonesty which step for step corrupted
the whole psychology of Schopenhauer (he who
had arbitrarily and almost violently misunderstood
genius, art itself, morality, pagan religion, beauty,
knowledge, and almost everything).

852.

The tragic artist. — Whether, and in regard to
what, the judgment^ beautiful " is established is a
question of an individuals or of a people's strength
The feeling of plenitude, of overflowing strength
(which gaily and courageously meets many an
obstacle before which the weakling shudders) — the
feeling of power utters the judgment " beautiful "
concerning things and conditions which the in-
stinct of impotence can only value as hateful and

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 287

ugly. The flair which enables us to decide whether
the objects we encounter are dangerous, problem-
atic, or alluring, likewise determines our aesthetic
Yea. (" This is beautiful," is an affirmation).

From this we see that, generally speaking, a
preference for questionable and terrible things is a
symptom of strength ; whereas the taste for pretty
and charming trifles is characteristic of the weak
and the delicate. The love of tragedy is typical
of strong ages and characters : its non plus ultra
is perhaps the Divina Commedia. It is the heroic
spirits which in tragic cruelty say Yea unto them-
selves : they are hard enough to feel pain as a
pleasure. — __.

On the other hand, supposing \^a_kUngs desire
to get pleasure from an art which was not designed
for them, what interpretation must we suppose they
would like to give tragedy in order to make it suit
their taste ? They would interpret their own feel-
ings of value into it : e.g. the " triumph of the
moral order of things," or the teaching of the
" uselessness of existence," or the incitement to
" resignation " (or also half-medicinal and half-
moral outpourings, a la Aristotle). Finally, the
art of terrible natures, in so far as it may excite
the nerves, may be regarded by the weak and ex-
hausted as a stimulus : this is now taking place,
for instance, in the case of the admiration meted
out to Wagner's art. A test of man's well-being
and consciousness of power is the extent to which
he can acknowledge the terrible and questionable
character of things, and whether he is in any need
of a faith at the end.

288 THE WILL TO POWER.

This kind of artistic pessimism is precisely the
reverse of that religio-moral pessimism which
suffers from the corruption of man and the
enigmatic character of existence : the latter in-
sists upon deliverance, or at least upon the hope
of deliverance. Those who suffer, doubt, and dis-
trust themselves, — the sick, in other words, — have
in all ages required the transporting influence of
visions in order to be able to exist at all (the
notion " blessedness " arose in this way). A
similar case would be that ot the artists of
decadence, who at bottom maintain a Nihilistic
attitude to life, and take refuge in the beauty of
form, — in those select cases in which Nature is
perfect, in which she is indifferently great and in-
differently beautiful. (The " love of the beautiful "
may thus be something very different from the
ability to see or create the beautiful : it may be
the expression^of impotence in this respect.)JfThe
most convincing artists are those who make
harmony ring out of every discord, and who
benefit all things by the gift ot their power and
inner harmony : in every work ot art the^ merely
reveal the symbol of their inmost experiences —
their creation is gratitude for their lifer \

The depth of the tragic artist consists in the
fact that his aesthetic instinct surveys the more
remote results, that he does not halt shortsightedly
at the thing that is nearest, that he says Yea to
the whole cosmic economy, which justifies the
terrible, the evil, and the questionable ; which
more than justifies it.

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 289

853.

Art in the " Birth of Tragedy?

I.

The conception of the work which lies
right in the background of this book, is extra-
ordinarily gloomy and unpleasant : among all the
types of pessimism which have ever been known
hitherto, none seems to have attained to this degree
of malice. The contrast of a true and of an ap-
parent world is entirely absent here : there is but
one world, and it is false, cruel, contradictory,
seductive, and without sense. ... A world thus
constituted is the true world. We are in need of
lies in order to rise superior to this reality, to this
truth — that is to say, in order to live. . . . That
lies should be necessary to life is part and parcel of
the terrible and questionable character of existence.

Metaphysics, morality, religion, science, — in this
book, all these things are regarded merely as
different forms of falsehood : by means of them we
are led to believe in life. " J^ife must inspire con-
fidence " : the task which this imposes upon us is
enormous. In order to solve this problem— »*»-.
must already be a liar in his heart, but he must
above all else be an artist. And he is that.
Metaphysics, religion, morality, science, — all these
things are but the offshoot of his will to art, to
falsehood, to a flight from " truth," to a denial of
"truth." This ability, this artistic capacity par
excellence of man — thanks to which he overcomes
reality with lies, — is a quality which he has in

vol. 11. T

290 THE WILL TO POWER.

common with all other forms of existence. He
himself is indeed a piece of reality, of truth, of
nature : how could he help being also a piece
of genius in prevarication !

The fact that the character of existence is
misunderstood, is the profoundest and the highest
secret motive behind everything relating to virtue,
science, piety, and art. To be blind to many
things, to see many things falsely, to fancy
many things : Oh, how clever man has been
in those circumstances in which he believed

/ he was anything but clever ! Love, enthusiasm,
" God " — are but subtle forms! 87 ultimate
Self-deception ; they are but seductions to life

r and to the belief in life! In those moments
when man was deceived, when he had befooled
himself and when he believed in life: Oh, how
his spirit swelled within him ! Oh, what ecstasies
he had ! What power he felt ! And what artistic
triumphs in the feeling of power ! . . . Man had
once more become master of " matter," — master of
truth ! . . . And whenever man rejoices it is always
in the same way : he rejoices as an artist, his power
is his joy, he enjoys falsehood as his power. . . .

II.

Art and nothing else ! Art is the great means
of making life possible, the great seducer to life,
the great stimulus of life.

Art is the only superior counteragent to all will
to the "denial of life.;... it is par excellence the anti-
Christian, the anti-Buddhistic, the anti-Nihilistic
force.

m?&r

THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 291

Art is the alleviation of the seeker after know-
ledge,— of him who recognises the terrible and
questionable character of existence, and who will
recognise it, — of the tragic seeker after know-
ledge.

Art is the alleviation of the man of action, — of
him who not only sees the terrible and questionable
character of existence, but also lives it, will live it,
— of the tragic and warlike man, the hero.

Art is the alleviation of the sufferer, — as the
way to states in which pain is willed, is trans-
figured, is deified, where suffering is a form of
great ecstasy.

III.

It is clear that in this book pessimism, or,
better still, Nihilism, stands for " truth." But truth
is not postulated" as the highest measure of value,
and still less as the highest power. Xbe_ will to 1
appearance, to illusion, to deception, to becoming,
and to change (to objective deception), is here re-
garded as more profound, as more primeval, as
more metaphysical than the will to truth, to reality,
to appearance : the latter is merely a form of the
will to illusion. Happiness is likewise conceived
as more primeval than pain : and pain is considered
as conditioned, as a consequence of the will to
happiness (of the will to Becoming, to growth, to
forming, i.e. to creating ; in creating, however, de- t
struction is included). The highest state of Yea-
saying to existence is conceived as one from which
the greatest pain may not be excluded : the tragico-
Dionysian state.

\J

/

292 THE WILL TO POWER.

IV.

In this way this book is even anti-pessimistic,
namely, in the sense that it teaches something which
is stronger than pessimism and which is more
" divine " than truth : Art. Nobody, it would seem,
would be more ready seriously to utter a radical
denial of life, an actual denial of action even more
than a denial of life, than the author of this book.
Except that he knows — for he has experienced it,
and perhaps experienced little else ! — that art is of
K/ more value than truth.

Even in the preface, in which Richard Wagner
is, as it were, invited to join with him in conversa-
tion, the author expresses this article of faith, this
gospel for artists: " Art is the only task of life, art
is the metaphysical activity of life.

FOURTH BOOK.
DISCIPLINE AND BREEDING.

i

THE ORDER OF RANK,
i. The Doctrine of the Order of Rank.

854-

In this age of universal suffrage, in which every-
body is allowed to sit in judgment upon everything
and everybody, I feel compelled to re-establish the
order of rank.

855.
Quanta of power alone determine rank and dis-
tinguish rank : nothing else does.

856.

The will to power. — How must those men be
constituted who would undertake this transvalua-
tion ? The order of rank as the order of power :
war and danger are the prerequisites which allow
of a rank maintaining its conditions. The pro-
digious example: man in Nature — the weakest
and shrewdest creature making himself master, and
putting a yoke upon all less intelligent forces.

295

296 THE WILL TO POWER.

857.

I distinguish between the type which represents
ascending life and that which represents decay,
decomposition and weakness. Ought one to
suppose that the question of rank between these
two types can be at all doubtful ? . .

858.

The modicum of power which you represent
decides your rank ; all the rest is cowardice.

859.

The advantages of standing detached from one's
age. — Detached from the two movements, that of
individualism and that of collectivist morality ; for
even the first does not recognise the order of rank,
and would give one individual the same freedom
as another. My thoughts are not concerned with
the degree of freedom which should be granted to
the one or to the other or to all, but with the
degree of power which the one or the other should
exercise over his neighbour or over all ; and more
especially with the question to what extent a
sacrifice of freedom, or even enslavement, may
afford the basis for the cultivation of a superior
type. In plain words : how could one sacrifice the
development of mankind in order to assist a higher
species than man to come into being.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 297

860.

Concerning rank. — The terrible consequences
of * equality " — in the end everybody thinks he has
the right to every problem. All order of rank
has vanished.

861.

It is necessary for higher men to declare war
upon the masses ! In all directions mediocre
people are joining hands in order to make them-
selves masters. Everything that pampers, that
softens, and that brings the " people " or " woman "
to the front, operates in favour of universal suffrage
— that is to say, the dominion of inferior men.
But we must make reprisals, and draw the
whole state of affairs (which commenced in
Europe with Christianity) to the light of day
and to judgment.

862.

A teaching is needed which is strong enough
to work in a disciplinary manner; it should
operate in such a way as to strengthen the strong
and to paralyse and smash up the world-weary.

The annihilation of declining races. The
decay of Europe. The annihilation of slave-
tainted valuations. The dominion of the world
as a means to the rearing of a higher type. The
annihilation of the humbug which is called
morality (Christianity as a hysterical kind of
honesty in this regard : Augustine, Bunyan)

298 THE WILL TO POWER.

The annihilation of universal suffrage — that is
to say, that system by means of which the
lowest natures prescribe themselves as a law for
higher natures. The annihilation of mediocrity
and its prevalence. (The one-sided, the indivi-
duals— peoples ; constitutional plenitude should
be aimed at by means of the coupling of opposites ;
to this end race-combinations should be tried.)
The new kind of courage — no a priori truths
(those who were accustomed to believe in some-
thing sought such truths !), but free submission to
a ruling thought, which has its time ; for instance,
time conceived as the quality of space, etc.

2. The Strong and the Weak.

863.

The notion, " strong and weak man" resolves itself
into this, that in the first place much strength is
inherited — the man is a total sum ; in the other,
not yet enough (inadequate inheritance, subdivision
of the inherited qualities). Weakness may be a
starting phenomenon : not yet enough ; or a final
phenomenon : " no more."

The determining point is there where great
strength is present, or where a great amount of
I strength can be discharged. The mass, as the
I sum-total of the weak, reacts slowly ■; it defends
itself against much for which it is too weak, —
against that for which it has no use; it never
creates, it never takes a step forward. This is

THE ORDER OF RANK. 299

opposed to the theory which denies the strong
individual and would maintain that the " masses
do everything." The difference is similar to that
which obtains between separated generations :
four or even five generations may lie between the
masses and him who is the moving spirit — it is a
chronological difference.

The values of the weak are in the van, because
the strong have adopted them in order to lead
with them.

864.

Why the weak triumph. — On the whole, the sick
and the weak have more sympathy and are more
" humane " : the sick and the weak have more
intellect, and are more changeable, more variegated,
more entertaining — more malicious ; the sick alone
invented malice. *\A morbid precocity is often to be
observed among rickety, scrofulitic, and tuberculous
people.) Esprit : the property of older races ;
Jews, Frenchmen, Chinese. (The anti-Semites
do not forgive the Jews for having both intellect —
and money. Anti-Semites — another name for
" bungled and botched.")

The sick and the weak have always had fascina-
tion on their side ; they are more interesting than
the healthy : the fool and the saint — the two most
interesting kinds of men. . . . Closely related
thereto is the " genius." The " great adventurers
and criminals " and all great men, the most healthy
in particular, have always been sick at certain
periods of their lives — great disturbances of the

300 THE WILL TO POWER.

emotions, the passion for power, love, revenge, are
all accompanied by very profound perturbations.
And, as for decadence, every man who does not
die prematurely manifests it in almost every
respect — he therefore knows from experience the
instincts which belong to it : for half his life
nearly every man is decadent.

And finally, woman ! One-half of mankind is
weak, chronically sick, changeable, shifty — woman
requires strength in order to cleave to it ; she also
requires a religion of the weak which glorifies
weakness, love, and modesty as divine : or, better
still, she makes the strong weak — she rules when
she succeeds in overcoming the strong. xV Woman
has always conspired with decadent types, — the
priests, for instance, — against the " mighty," against

1 the " strong," against men. Women avail them-

1 selves of children for the cult of piety, pity, and
love : — the mother stands as the symbol of con-

1 vincing altruism. x

Finally, the increase of civilisation with its
necessary correlatives, the increase of morbid
elements, vNof the neurotic and psychiatric and of
the criminal. 'f A sort of intermediary species arises,
the artist. He is distinct from those who are

\ criminals as the result of weak wills and of the
] fear of society, although they may not yet be ripe
for the asylum ; but he has antennae which grope
inquisitively into both spheres : this specific plant
of culture, the modern artist, painter, musician, and,
above all, novelist, who designates his particular
kind of attitude with the very indefinite word
" naturalism." . . . Lunatics, criminals, and

THE ORDER OF RANK. 301

realists * are on the increase : this is the sign of
a growing culture plunging forward at headlong
speed — that is to say, its excrement, its refuse, the
rubbish that is shot from it every day, is beginning
to acquire more importance, — the retrogressive
movement keeps pace with the advance.

Finally!' the social mishmash, which is the result
of revolution, of the establishment of equal rights, I
and of the superstition, the " equality of men." /
Thus the possessors of the instincts of decline (of
resentment, ot discontent, of the lust of destruction,
of anarchy and Nihilism), as also the instincts of
slavery, of cowardice, of craftiness, and of rascality,
which are inherent among those classes of society
which have long been suppressed, are beginning to
get infused into the blood of all ranks. Two or
three generations later, the race can no longer be
recognised — everything has become tnob. And
thus there results a collective instinct against
selection^ against every kind of privilege ; and
this instinct operates with such power, certainty,
hardness, and cruelty that, as a matter of fact, in
the end, even the privileged classes have to
submit : all those who still wish to hold on to
power flatter the mob, work with the mob, and
must have the mob on their side — the " geniuses "
above all. The latter become the heralds of those
feelings with which the mob can be inspired, — the
expression of pity, of honour, even for all that
suffers, all that is low and despised, and has lived

* The German word is " Naturalist," and really means
" realist " in a bad sense. — Tr.

302 THE WILL TO POWER.

under persecution, becomes predominant (types :
Victor Hugo, Richard Wagner). — The rise of the
mob signifies once more the rise of old values.

In the case of such an extreme movement, both
in tempo and in means, as characterises our civil-
isation, man's ballast is shifted. Those men whose
worth is greatest, and whose mission, as it were, is
to compensate for the very great danger of such
a morbid movement, — such men become dawdlers
par excellence ; they are slow to accept anything,
and are tenacious ; they are creatures that are
relatively lasting in the midst of this vast mingling
and changing of elements. In such circumstances
power is necessarily relegated to the mediocre-,
mediocrity, as the trustee and bearer of the future,
consolidates itself against the rule of the mob and
of eccentricities (both of which are, in most cases,
united). In this way a new antagonist is evolved
for exceptional men — or in certain cases a new
temptation. Provided that they do not adapt
themselves to the mob, and stand up for what
satisfies the instincts of the disinherited, they will
find it necessary to be " mediocre " and sound.
They know : mediocritas is also aurea^ — it alone
has command of money and gold (of all that
glitters ...).... And, once more, old virtue and
the whole superannuated world of ideals in general
secures a gifted host of special-pleaders. . . . Result:
mediocrity acquires intellect, wit, and genius, — it
becomes entertaining, and even seductive.

a *

Result.— A high culture can only stand upon a
broad basis, upon a strongly and soundly consoli-

THE ORDER OF RANK. 303

dated mediocrity/ In its service and assisted by
it, science and even art do their work. Science
could not wish for a better state of affairs : in its
essence it belongs to a middle-class type of man, —
among exceptions it is out of place, — there is not
anything aristocratic and still less anything
anarchic in its instincts. — The power of the middle
classes is then upheld by means of commerce, but,
above all, by means of money-dealing : the instinct
of great financiers is opposed to everything extreme
— on this account the Jews are, for the present,
the most conservative power in the threatening
and insecure conditions of modern Europe. They
can have no use either for revolutions, for social-
ism, or for militarism : if they would have power,
and if they should need it, even over the revolu-
tionary party, this is only the result of what I
have already said, and it in no way contradicts
it. Against other extreme movements they may
occasionally require to excite terror — by showing
how much power is in their hands. But their
instinct itself is inveterately conservative and
" mediocre." . . . Wherever power exists, they
know how to become mighty ; but the application
of their power always takes the same direction.
The polite term for mediocre, as is well known,

is the word " Liberal!' ' —~* * \

*

Reflection. — It is all nonsense to suppose that
this general conquest of values is anti-biological.
In order to explain it, we ought to try and show
that it is the result of a certain interest of life to
maintain the type " man," even by means ot this

a

304 THE WILL TO POWER.

method which leads to the prevalence of the weak
and the physiologically botched — if things were
otherwise, might man not cease to exist ? Problem. . .

The enhancement of the type may prove fatal
to the maintenance of the species. Why ? — The
experience of history shows that strong races
decimate each other mutually, by means of war,
lust for power, and venturousness ; the strong
emotions ; wastefulness (strength is no longer
capitalised, disturbed mental systems arise from
excessive tension) ; their existence is a costly
affair — in short, they persistently give rise to
friction between themselves ; periods of profound
slackness and torpidity intervene : all great ages
have to be paid for. . . . The strong are, after all,
weaker, less wilful, and more absurd than the
average weak ones.

They are squandering races. " Permanence"
in itself, can have no value : that which ought to
be preferred thereto would be a shorter life for
the species, but a life richer in creations. It would
remain to be proved that, even as things are, a
richer sum of creations is attained than in the
case of the shorter existence ; i.e. that man, as a
storehouse of power, attains to a much higher
degree of dominion over things under the con-
ditions which have existed hitherto. . . . We are
here face to face with a problem of economics.

865.

The state of mind which calls itself " idealism,"
and which will neither allow mediocrity to be

THE ORDER OF RANK. 305

mediocre nor woman to be woman ! Do not
make everything uniform ! We should have a
clear idea of how dearly we have to pay for the
establishment of a virtue ; and that virtue is
nothing generally desirable, but a noble piece of
madness^ a beautiful exception, which gives us the
privilege of feeling elated. . . .

866.

It is necessary to show that a counter-movement
is inevitably associated with any increasingly
economical consumption of men and mankind, and
with an ever more closely involved " machinery "
of interests and services. I call this counter-
movement the separation of the luxurious surplus
of mankind-, by means of it a stronger kind, a
higher type, must come to light, which has other
conditions for its origin and for its maintenance than
the average man. My concept, my metaphor for
this type is, as you know, the word " Superman."
Along the first road, which can now be completely
surveyed, arose adaptation, stultification, higher
Chinese culture, modesty iri^~Ehlfmstincts, and
satisfaction at the sight of the belittlement of
man — a kind of stationary level of mankind. If
ever we get that inevitable and imminent, general
control of the economy of the earth, then man-
kind can be used as machinery and find its best
purpose in the service of this economy — as an
enormous piece of clock-work consisting of ever
smaller and ever more subtly adapted wheels ;
then all the dominating and commanding elements

vol. 11. U

n
1

306 THE WILL TO POWER.

will become ever more superfluous ; and the
whole gains enormous energy, while the individual
factors which compose it represent but small
modicums of strength and of value. To oppose
this dwarfing and adaptation of man to a special-
ised kind of utility, a reverse movement is needed
— the procreation of the synthetic man who em-
v bodies everything and justifies it ; that man for
i j) whom the turning of mankind into a machine is
\la first condition of existence, for whom the rest of
mankind is but soil on which he can devise his
higher mode of existence.

He is in need of the opposition of the masses,
of those who are " levelled down " ; he requires
that feeling of distance from them ; he stands
upon them, he lives on them. This higher form
of aristocracy is the form of the future. From
the moral point of view, the collective machinery
above described, that solidarity of all wheels,
represents the most extreme example in the
exploitation of mankind-, but it presupposes the
J existence of those for whom such an exploitation
V would have some meaning* Otherwise it would
signify, as a matter of fact, merely the general
depreciation of the type man, — a retrograde
phenomenon on a grand scale.

Readers are beginning to see what I am
combating — namely, economic optimism : as if

* This sentence for ever distinguishes Nietzsche's aristoc-
racy from our present plutocratic and industrial one, for
which, at the present moment at any rate, it would be
difficult to discover some meaning. — Tr.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 307

the general welfare of everybody must necessarily
increase with the growing self-sacrifice of every-
body. The very reverse seems to me to be the
case, the self-sacrifice of everybody amounts to a
collective loss ; man becomes inferior — so that
nobody knows what end this monstrous purpose
has served. A wherefore ? a new wherefore ? —
this is what mankind requires.

867

The recognition of the increase of collective
power-, we should calculate to what extent the
ruin of individuals, of castes, of ages, and of
peoples, is included in this general increase.

The transposition of the ballast of a culture.
The cost of every vast growth : who bears it ?
Why must it be enormous at the present time ?

868.

* General aspect of the future European : the
latter regarded as the most intelligent servile (
animal, very industrious, at bottom very modest, ^ ,
inquisitive to excess, multifarious, pampered, f
weak of will, — a chaos of cosmopolitan pas- I
sions and intelligences.// How would it be '
possible for a stronger race to be bred from
him ? — Such a race as would have a classical
taste ? The classical taste : this is the will to
simplicity, to accentuation, and to happiness made
visible, the will to the terrible, and the courage
for psychological nakedness (simplification is the

308 THE WILL TO POWER.

outcome of the will to accentuate ; allowing
happiness as well as nakedness to become visible
is a consequence of the will to the terrible . . .).
In order to fight one's way out of that chaos, and
up to this form, a certain disciplinary constraint is
necessary : a man should have to choose between
either going to the dogs ox prevailing. A ruling
race can only arise amid terrible and violent
conditions. Problem : where are the barbarians
of the twentieth century? Obviously they will
only show themselves and consolidate themselves
j after enormous socialistic crises. They will con-
sist of those elements which are capable of the
greatest hardness towards themselves, and which
can guarantee the most enduring will-power.

869.

The mightiest and most dangerous passions of
man, by means of which he most easily goes to
rack and ruin, have been so fundamentally banned
that mighty men themselves have either become
impossible or else must regard themselves as evil,
" harmful and prohibited." The losses are heavy,
but up to the present they have been necessary.
Now, however, that a whole host of counter-forces
has been reared, by means of the temporary
suppression of these passions (the passion for
dominion, the love of change and deception), their
liberation has once more become possible: they
will no longer possess their old savagery. We
can now allow ourselves this tame sort of bar-
barism : look at our artists and our statesmen !

THE ORDER OF RANK. 309

870.
V

The root of all evil : that the slave morality
of modesty, chastity, selflessness, and absolute
obedience should have triumphed. Dominating
natures were thu* condemned (1) to hypocrisy,
(2) to qualms of conscience, — creative natures
regarded themselves as rebels against pod, un-
certain and hemmed in by eternal values.

The barbarians showed that the ability of
keeping within the bounds of moderation was not
in the scope of their powers : they feared and
slandered the passions and instincts of nature —
likewise the aspect of the ruling Caesars and
castes. On the other hand, there arose the sus-
picion that all restraint is a form of weakness or
of incipient old age and fatigue (thus La Rochefou-
cauld suspects that " virtue " is only a euphemism
in the mouths of those to whom vice no longer
affords any pleasure). The capacity for restraint
was represented as a matter of hardness, self-
control, asceticism, as a fight with the devil, etc.
etc. The natural delight of aesthetic natures, in
measure ; tlie pleasure derived from the beauty of
measure, was overlooked and denied, because that
which was desired was an anti-eudaemonistic
morality. The belief in Jhe pleasure which comes
of restraint has been lacking hitherto — this
pleasure of a rider on a fiery steed ! The modera- /
tion of weak natures was confounded with the j
restraint of the strong ! jV

In short, the best things have been blasphemed
because weak or immoderate swine have thrown a

310 THE WILL TO POWER.

bad light upon them — the best men have remained
• concealed — and have often misunderstood them-
selves.

871,

Vicious and unbridled people : their depressing
influence upon the value of the passions. It was
the appalling barbarity of morality which was
principally responsible in the Middle Ages for
the compulsory recourse to a veritable " league
ot virtue " — and this was coupled with an equally
appalling exaggeration of all that which consti-
1 tutes the value of man. Militant " civilisation "
(taming) is in need of all kinds of irons and
tortures in order to maintain itself against terrible
and beast-of-prey natures.

In this case, confusion, although it may have
the most nefarious influences, is quite natural :
that which ^ men of power and will are able to
demand of themselves gives them the standard for
what they may also allow themselves. Such natures
are the very opposite of the vicious and the un-
bridled; although under certain circumstances they
I may perpetrate deeds for which an inferior man
would be convicted of vice and intemperance.
In this respect the concept, " all men are equal
before God" does an extraordinary amount of
harm ; actions and attitudes of mind were for-
bidden which belonged to the prerogative of the
strong alone, just as if they were in themselves
unworthy of man. All the tendencies of strong

I men were brought into disrepute by the fact that
the defensive weapons of the most weak (even of

THE ORDER OF RANK. 31 1

those who were weakest towards themselves) were ,
established as a standard of valuation.

The confusion went so far that precisely the
great virtuosos of life (whose self-control presents
the sharpest contrast to the vicious and the un- (
bridled) were branded with the most ogprobriojisj^
names. Even to this day people feel therfhselves )
compelled to disparage a Caesar Borgia : it is f
simply ludicrous. The Church has anathematised J
German Kaisers owing to their vices : as if a monk
or a priest had the right to say a word as to what
a Frederick II. should allow himself. Don Juan
is sent to hell : this is very naif. Has anybody
ever noticed that all interesting men are lacking
in heaven ? . . . This is only a hint to the girls, '
as to where they may best find salvation. If one '
think at all logically, and also have a profound
insight into that which makes a great man, there
can be no doubt at all that the Church has dis- J
patched all " great men " to Hades— its fight is \^
against all " greatness in man."

872.

The rights which a man arrogates to himself I
are relative to the duties which he sets himself, I
and to the tasks which he feels capable of per- I
forming. The great majority of men have no
right to life, and are only a misfortune to their
higher fellows.

873.

The misunderstanding of egoism: on the part
of ignoble natures who know nothing of the lust of

;,

12 THE WILL TO POWER.

conquest and the insatiability of great love, and who
likewise know nothing of the overflowing feelings
of power which make a man wish to overcome things,
to force them over to himself, and to lay them on
his heart, the power which impels an artist to
his material. It often happens also that the
active spirit looks for a field for its activity. In
ordinary " egoism " it is precisely the " non-ego,"
the prof ~ou?idly mediocre creature , the member of
the herd, who wishes to maintain himself — and
when this is perceived by the rarer, more subtle,
and less mediocre natures, it revolts them. For
the judgment of the latter is this : " We are the
noble ! It is much more important to maintain us
than that cattle ! "

874.

The degeneration of the ruler and of the ruling
classes has been the cause of all the great dis-
orders in history ! Without the Roman Caesars
and Roman society, Christianity would never have
prevailed.

When it occurs to inferior men to doubt
whether higher men exist, then the danger is
great ! It is then that men finally discover that
there are virtues even among inferior, suppressed,
and poor-spirited men, and that everybody is
equal before God : which is the non plus ultra of
all confounded nonsense that has ever appeared
on earth ! For in the end higher men begin to
measure themselves according to the standard of
virtues upheld by the slaves — and discover that

THE ORDER OF RANK. 3J3

they are " proud," etc., and that all their higher
qualities should be condemned.

When Nero and Caracalla stood at the helm,
it was then that the paradox arose : " The lowest
man is of more value than that one on the throne ! "
And thus the path was prepared for an image of
God which was as remote as possible from the
image of the mightiest, — God on the Cross ! /

875.

Higher man and gregarious man. — When great
! men are wanting, the great of the past are con-
f verted into demigods or whole gods : the rise of
religions proves that mankind no longer has any
pleasure in man (" nor in woman neither," as in
Hamlet's case). Or a host of men are brought /
together in a heap, and it is hoped that as a
Parliament they will operate just as tyrannically.

Tyrannising is the distinctive quality of great ,
men : they make inferior men stupid.

876.

Buckle affords the best example of the extent
to which a plebeian agitator of the mob is in-
capable of arriving at a clear idea of the concept,
" higher nature." The opinion which he combats
so passionately — that "great men," individuals,
princes, statesmen, geniuses, warriors, are the
levers and causes of all great movements, is in-
stinctively misunderstood by him, as if it meant
that all that was essential and valuable in such

314 THE WILL TO POWER.

a " higher man," was the fact that he was capable
of setting masses in motion ; in short, that his
sole merit was the effect he produced. . . . But
the " higher nature " of the great man resides
precisely in being different, in being unable to
communicate with others, in the loftiness of his
rank — not in any sort of effect he may produce
even though this be the shattering of both hemi-
spheres.

877.

The Revolution made Napoleon possible : that
J is its justification. We ought to desire the
anarchical collapse of the whole of our civilisation
if such a reward were to be its result. Napoleon
made nationalism possible: that is the latter's
excuse.

The value of a man (apart, of course, from
morality and immorality : because with these
concepts a man's worth is not even skimmed)
does not lie in his utility ; because he would
continue to exist even if there were nobody to
whom he could be useful. And why could not
that man be the very pinnacle of manhood who
was the source of the worst possible effects for
his race : so high and so superior, that in his
presence everything would go to rack and ruin
from envy?

878.

To appraise the value of a man according to
his utility to mankind, or according to what he
costs it, or the damage he is able to inflict upon it,

THE ORDER OF RANK. 315

is just as good and just as bad as to appraise the
value of a work of art according to its effects, j
But in this way the value of one man compared
with another is not even touched upon. The
" moral valuation," in so far as it is social, measures
men altogether according to their effects. But
what about the man who has his own taste on
his tongue, who is surrounded and concealed
by his isolation, uncommunicative and not to be
communicated with ; a man whom no one has
fathomed yet — that is to say, a creature of a
higher, and, at any rate, different species : how
would ye appraise his worth, seeing that ye
cannot know him and can compare him with
nothing?

Moral valuation was the cause of the most
enormous obtuseness of judgment: the value of
a man in himself is underrated, well-nigh over-
looked, practically denied. This is the remains
of simple-minded teleology : the value of man
can only be measured with regard to other men.

879.

To be obsessed by moral considerations pre-
supposes a very low grade of intellect : it shows
that the instinct for special rights, for standing
apart, the feeling of freedom in creative natures,
in " children of God " (or of the devil), is lacking.
And irrespective of whether he preaches a ruling
morality or criticises the prevailing ethical code
from the point of view of his own ideal : by
doing these things a man shows that he belongs

'

316 THE WILL TO POWER.

to the herd — even though he may be what it is
most in need of — that is to say, a " shepherd."

880.

We should substitute, morality by the will to our
own ends, and consequently to the means to them.

881.

' J Concerning the order of rank. — What is it that
constitutes the mediocrity of the typical man ?
That he does not understand that things neces-
sarily have their other side ; that he combats evil
conditions as if they could be dispensed with ;
that he will not take the one with the other ; that
he would fain obliterate and erase the specific
character of a thing, of a circumstance, of an age,
and of a person, by calling only a portion of their
qualities good, and suppressing the remainder.
The " desirability " of the mediocre is that which
we others combat : their ideal is something which
shall no longer contain anything harmful, evil,
dangerous, questionable, and destructive. We
recognise the reverse of this : that with every
growth of man his other side must grow as well ;
that the highest man, if such a concept be allowed,
would be that man who would represent the antag-
onistic character of existence most strikingly, arid
would be its glory and its only justification. . . .
Ordinary men may only represent a small corner
and nook of this natural character; they perish
the moment the multifariousness of the elements
composing them, and the tension between their

}

THE ORDER OF RANK. 317

antagonistic traits, increases : but this is the pre-
requisite for greatness in man. That man should f
become better and at the same time more evil, is |
my formula for this inevitable fact.

The majority of people are only piecemeal and
fragmentary examples of man : only when all
these creatures are jumbled together does one
whole man arise. Whole ages and whole peoples
in this sense, have a fragmentary character about
them ; it may perhaps be part of the economy of
human development that man should develop
himself only piecemeal. But, for this reason, one
should not forget that the only important con-
sideration is the rise of the synthetic man ; that '
inferior men, and by far the great majority of
people, are but rehearsals and exercises out of v ( S
which here and there a whole man may arise ; a \ *
man who is a human milestone, and who indicates
how far mankind has advanced up to a certain /
point. Mankind does not advance in a straight ]
line ; often a type is attained which is again lost '
(for instance, with all the efforts of three hundred
years, we have not reached the men of the Renais-
sance again, and in addition to this we must not
forget that the man of the Renaissance was already
behind his brother of classical antiquity).

882.

The superiority of the Greek and the man of
the Renaissance is recognised, but people would
like to produce them without the conditions and
causes of which they were the result.

318 THE WILL TO POWER.

883.

" Purification of taste " can only be the result
of the strengthening of the type. Our society
/to-day represents only the cultivating systems;
the cultivated man is lacking. The great synthetic
man, in whom the various forces for attaining a
purpose are correctly harnessed together, is alto-
gether wanting. The specimen we possess is the
// multifarious man, the most interesting form of
chaos that has ever existed : but not the chaos
preceding the creation of the world, but that fol-
lowing it : Goethe as the most beautiful expression
of the type {completely and utterly un- Olympian !)*

884.

Handel, Leibniz, Goethe, and Bismarck, are
characteristic of the strong German type. They
lived with equanimity, surrounded by contrasts.
They were full of that agile kind of strength
which cautiously avoids convictions and doctrines,
by using the one as a weapon against the other,
and reserving absolute freedom for themselves.

885.

Of this I am convinced, that if the rise of great
and rare men had been made dependent upon the
voices of the multitude (taking for granted, of

*Tbe Germans always call Goethe the Olympian.— Tr.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 319

course, that the latter knew the qualities which
belong to greatness, and also the price that all
greatness pays for its self-development), then there
would never have been any such thing as a great
man !

The fact that things pursue their course inde- ]
pendently of the voice of the many, is the reason why
a few astonishing things have taken place on earth.

886.
The Order of Rank in Human Values.

(a) A man should not be valued according to
isolated acts. Epidermal actions. Nothing is more
rare than a personal act. Class, rank, race, environ-
ment, accident — all these things are much more
likely to be expressed in an action or deed than
the " personality " of the doer.

(J?) We should on no account jump to the con-
clusion that there are many people who are per-
sonalities. Some men are but conglomerations of
personalities, whilst the majority are not even one.
In all cases in which those average qualities pre-
ponderate, which ensure the maintenance of the
species, to be a personality would involve un- -
necessary expense, it would be a luxury — in fact,
it would be foolish to demand of anybody that he
should be a personality. In such circumstances
everybody is a channel or a transmitting vessel.

(c) A " personality " is a relatively isolated phen-
omenon ; in view of the superior importance or
the continuation of the race at an average level, a

320 THE WILL TO POWER.

personality might even be regarded as something
hostile to nature. For a, personality to be possible,
timely isolation and the necessity for an existence
of offence and defence, are prerequisites ; something
in the nature of a walled enclosure, a capacity for
I shutting out the world ; but above all, a much lower
\ degree of sensitiveness than the average man has,
who is too easily infected with the views of others.

The first question concerning the order of rank :
how far is a man disposed to be solitary or gre-
garious} (in the latter case, his value consists in those
qualities which secure the survival of his tribe or
his type ; in the former case, his qualities are those
which distinguish him from others, which isolate
and defend him, and make his solitude possible).

Consequence : the solitary type should not be
valued from the standpoint of the gregarious type,
or vice versa.

Viewed from above, both types are necessary ;
as is likewise their antagonism, — and nothing is
more thoroughly reprehensible than the " desire "
which would develop a third thing out of the two
(" virtue " as hermaphroditism). This is as little
worthy of desire as the equalisation and reconcilia-
tion of the sexes. The distinguishing qualities must
be developed ever more and more, the gulf must be
made ever wider. . . .

The concept of degeneration in both cases : the
approximation of the qualities of the herd to those
of solitary creatures: and vice versd — in short, when
they begin to resemble each other. This concept
of degeneration is beyond the sphere of moral
judgments.

fjk

i

THE ORDER OF RANK. 32 1

887.

Where the strongest natures are to be sought.
The ruin and degeneration of the solitary species is
much greater and more terrible : they have the in-
stincts of the herd, and the tradition of values,
against them ; their weapons of defence, their in-
stincts of self-preservation, are from the beginning
insufficiently strong and reliable — fortune must be
peculiarly favourable to them if they are to prosper
(they prosper best in the lowest ranks and dregs
of society ; if ye are seeking personalities it is there !
that ye will find them with much greater certainty
than in the middle classes !)

When the dispute between ranks and classes,
which aims at equality of rights, is almost settled,
the fight will begin against the solitary person. (In
a certain sense the latter can maintain and develop
himself most easily in a democratic society : there
where the coarser means of defence are no longer
necessary, and a certain habit of order, honesty,
justice, trust, is already a general condition.) ^Jhe
strongest must be most tightly bound, most strictly
watched, laid in chains and supervised : this is the
instinct of the herd. To them belongs a regime of
self-mastery, of ascetic detachment, of " duties "
consisting in exhausting work, in which one can no
longer call one's soul one's own.

888.

I am attempting an economic justification of
virtue. The object is to make man as useful as
vol. 11. X

322 THE WILL TO POWER.

possible, and to make him approximate as nearly
as one can to an infallible machine : to this end he
must be equipped with machine- like virtues (he
must learn to value those states in which he works
in a most mechanically useful way, as the highest
of all : to this end it is necessary to make him as
disgusted as possible with the other states, and to
represent them as very dangerous and despicable).
Here is the first stumbling-block : the tedious-
ness and monotony which all mechanical activity
brings with it. To learn to endure this — and not
only to endure it, but to see tedium enveloped in
a ray of exceeding charm : this hitherto has been
the task of all higher schools. To learn something
which you don't care a fig about, and to find pre-
cisely your " duty " in this " objective " activity ;
to learn to value happiness and duty as things
apart ; this is the invaluable task and performance
of higher schools. It is on this account that the
| philologist has, hitherto, been the educator per se :
because his activity, in itself, affords the best
pattern of magnificent monotony in action ; under
his banner youths learn to " swat " : first pre-
requisite for the thorough fulfilment of mechanical
duties in the future (as State officials, husbands,
slaves of the desk, newspaper readers, and soldiers).
Such an existence may perhaps require a philosoph-
ical glorification and justification more than any
other : pleasurable feelings must be valued by some
sort of infallible tribunal, as altogether of inferior
rank ; " duty per se" perhaps even the pathos of re-
verence in regard to everything unpleasant, — must
be demanded imperatively as that which is above all

THE ORDER OF RANK. 323

useful, delightful, and practical things. ... A
mechanical form of existence regarded as the
highest and most respectable form of existence,
worshipping itself (type : Kant as the fanatic of the
formal concept " Thou shalt ").

889.

The economic valuation of all the ideals that
have existed hitherto — that is to say, the selection
and rearing of definite passions and states at the
cost of other passions and states. The law-giver
(or the instinct of the community) selects a number
of states and passions the existence of which
guarantees the performance of regular actions
(mechanical actions would thus be the result of
the regular requirements of those passions and
states).

In the event of these states and passions con-
taining ingredients which were painful, a means
would have to be found for overcoming this pain-
fulness by means of a valuation ; pain would have
to be interpreted as something valuable, as some-
thing pleasurable in a higher sense. Conceived in
a formula : " Hoiv does something unpleasant become
pleasant ? " For instance, when our obedience and
our submission to the law become honoured, thanks
to the energy, power, and self-control they entail.
The same holds good of our public spirit, of our
neighbourliness, of our patriotism, our " humanisa-
tion," our "altruism," and our "heroism." The
object of all idealism should be to induce people to
do unpleasant things cheerfully.

324 THE WILL TO POWER.

890.

The belittlement of man must be held as the
chief aim for a long while : because what is needed
in the first place is a broad basis from which a
stronger species of man may arise (to what extent
hitherto has every stronger species of man arisen
from a substratum of inferior people ?).

891.

The absurd and contemptible form of idealism
which would not have mediocrity mediocre, and
which instead of feeling triumphant at being ex-
ceptional, becomes indignant at cowardice, false-
ness, pettiness, and wretchedness. We should not
wish things to be any different \ we should make the
gulfs even wider \ — The higher types among men
should be compelled to distinguish themselves by
means ot the sacrifices which they make to their
own existence.

Principal point of view : distances must be es-
tablished, but no contrasts must be created. The
middle classes must be dissolved, and their influence
decreased : this is the principal means of main-
taining distances.

892.

Who would dare to disgust the mediocre of their
mediocrity ! As you observe, I do precisely the
t reverse : every step away from mediocrity — thus
- do I teach — leads to immorality.

THE ORDER OF RANK.

325

893.

To hate mediocrity is unworthy of a philo-
sopher : it is almost a note of interrogation to his
" right to philosophy." It is precisely because he is
the exception that he must protect the rule and
ingratiate all mediocre people.

894.

What I combat : that an exceptional form should
make war upon the rule — instead of understanding
that the continued existence of the rule is the first
condition of the value of the exception. For in-
stance, there are women who, instead of consider-
ing their abnormal thirst for knowledge as a dis-
tinction, would fain dislocate the whole status of
womanhood.

895.

The increase of strength despite the temporary
ruin of the individual : —

A new level must be established ;

We must have a method of storing up forces

for the maintenance of small performances,

in opposition to economic waste ;
Destructive nature must for once be reduced

to an instrument of this economy of the

future ;
The weak must be maintained, because there

is an enormous mass of finicking work to

be done ;

v/

326 THE WILL TO POWER.

The weak and the suffering must be upheld
in their belief that existence is still possible ;

Solidarity must be implanted as an instinct
opposed to the instinct of fear and servility ;

War must be made upon accident, even upon
the accident of " the great man."

896.

War upon great men justified on economic
grounds. Great men are dangerous ; they are
accidents, exceptions, tempests, which are strong
enough to question things which it has taken time
to build and establish. Explosive material must
not only be discharged harmlessly, but, if possible,
its discharge must be prevented altogether ; this is
the fundamental instinct of all civilised society.

897.

1 He who thinks over the question of how the type
fnan may be elevated to its highest glory and
/power, will realise from the start that he must
/place himself beyond morality; for morality was
/ directed in its essentials at the opposite goal — that
/ is to say, its aim was to arrest and to annihilate
""3 I that glorious development wherever it was in pro-
cess of accomplishment. For, as a matter of fact,
development of that sort implies that such an
enormous number of men must be subservient to it,
that a counter-movement is only too natural : the
weaker, more delicate, more mediocre existences,
find it necessary to take up sides against that glory

THE ORDER OF RANK. 327

of life and power ; and for that purpose they must
get a new valuation of themselves by means of
which they are able to condemn, and if possible to
destroy, life in this high degree of plenitude.
Morality is therefore essentially the expression of
hostility to life, in so far as it would overcome j
vital types.

898.

The strong of the future. — To what extent neces-
sity on the one hand and accident on the other
have attained to conditions from which a stronger
species may be reared : this we are now able to
understand and to bring about consciously; we
can now create those conditions under which such
an elevation is possible.

Hitherto education has always aimed at the
utility of society : not the greatest possible utility
for the future, but the utility of the society actually
extant. What people required were " instruments"
for this purpose. Provided the wealth of forces
were greater, it would be possible to think of a
draft being made upon them, the aim of which
would not be the utility of society, but some future
utility.

The more people grasped to what extent the
present form of society was in such a state of tran-
sition as sooner or later to be no longer able to exist
for its own sake, but only as a means in the hands
of a stronger race, the more this task would have to
be brought fo7'ward.

The increasing belittlement of man is precisely
the impelling power which leads one to think of

328 THE WILL TO POWER.

the cultivation of a stronger race: a race which
would have a surplus precisely there where the
dwarfed species was weak and growing weaker
(will, responsibility, self-reliance, the ability to
postulate aims for one's self).

The means would be those which history teaches:
isolation by means of preservative interests which
would be the reverse of those generally accepted ;
exercise in transvalued valuations ; distance as
pathos ; a clean conscience in what to-day is most
despised and most prohibited.

The levelling of the mankind of Europe is the
great process which should not be arrested ; it
should even be accelerated. The necessity of
cleaving gulfs, of distance, of the order of rank, is
therefore imperative ; but not the necessity of re-
tarding the process above mentioned.

This levelled- down species requires justification
as soon as it is attained : its justification is that
it exists for the service of a higher and sovereign
race which stands upon it and can only be elevated
upon its shoulders to the task which it is destined
to perform. Not only a ruling race whose task
would be consummated in ruling alone : but a race
with vital spheres of its own, with an overflow of
energy for beauty, bravery, culture, and manners,
even for the most abstract thought ; a yea-saying
race which would be able to allow itself every kind
of great luxury — strong enough to be able to dis-
pense with the tyranny of the imperatives of virtue,
rich enough to be in no need of economy or
pedantry ; beyond good and evil ; a forcing-house
for rare and exceptional plants.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 329

899.

Our psychologists, whose glance dwells in-
voluntarily upon the symptoms of decadence, lead
us to mistrust intellect ever more and more.
People persist in seeing only the weakening, pam-
pering, and sickening effects of intellect, but there
are now going to appear : —

/;

The union of

1

Cynics

intellectual

New

Experi ment-

superiority

barbarians |

al is ts

with well-be-

J

Conquerors

ing and an

i

overflow of
strength.

900.

I point to something new : certainly for such a
democratic community there is a danger of bar-
barians ; but these are sought only down below.
There is also another kind of barbarians who come
from the heights : a kind of conquering and ruling
natures, which are in search of material that they
can mould. Prometheus was a barbarian of this
stamp.

901.

Principal standpoint: one should not suppose
the mission of a higher species to be the leading K V
of inferior men (as Comte does, for instance) ; but
the inferior should be regarded as the foundation
upon which a higher species may live their higher
life — upon which alone they can stand.

V\3

**

330 THE WILL TO POWER.

The conditions under which a strong-, noble V!
species maintains itself (in the matter of intellectual
discipline) are precisely the reverse of those under
which the industrial masses — the tea-grocers a la
Spencer — subsist. Those qualities which are
within the grasp only of the strongest and most
terrible natures, and which make their existence
possible — leisure, adventure, disbelief, and even^is^
sipation — would necessarily ruin mediocre natures
— and does do so — when they possess them. In
the case of the latter industry, regularity, modera-
tion, and strong " conviction " are in their proper
place — in short, all " gregarious virtues " : under
their influence these mediocre men become perfect.

902.

/ Concerning the ruling types. — The shepherd as
opposed to the " lord " (the former is only a means
to the maintenance of the herd ; the latter, the
purpose for which the herd exists).

903.

The temporary preponderance of social valua-
tions is both comprehensible and useful ; it is a
matter of building a foundation upon which a
stronger species will ultimately be made possible.
/The standard of strength : to be able to live under
the transvalued valuations, and to desire them for

v all eternity. State and society regarded as a sub-
structure : economic point of view, education con-

I ceived as breeding.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 33 1

904.

A consideration which " free spirits ' lack : that
the same discipline which makes a strong nature
still stronger, and enables it to go in for big under-
takings, breaks up and withers the mediocre : doubt
— la largeur de coeur — experiment — independence.

90$.

The hammer. How should men who must value
in the opposite way be constituted ? — Men who
possess all the qualities of the modern soul, but are
strong enough to convert them into real health ?
The means to their task.

906.

The strong man, who is mighty in the instincts
of a strong and healthy organisation, digests his
deeds just as well as he digests his meals ; he even
gets over the effects of heavy fare : in the main,
however, he is led by an inviolable and severe
instinct which prevents his doing anything which
goes against his grain, just as he never does any-
thing against his taste.

907.

Can we foresee the favourable circumstances
under which creatures of the highest value might
arise ? It is a thousand times too complicated, and \f
the probabilities of failure are very great : on that
account we cannot be inspired by the thought of

xf>

332 THE WILL TO POWER.

striving after them ! Scepticism. — To oppose this
we can enhance courage, insight, hardness, inde-
pendence, and the feeling of responsibility ; we can
also subtilise and learn to forestall the delicacy of
the scales, so that favourable accidents may be
enlisted on our side.

908.

Before we can even think of acting, an enormous
amount of work requires to be done. In the main,
however, a cautious exploitation of the present con-
ditions would be our best and most advisable
course of action. The actual creation of conditions
such as those which occur by accident, presupposes
the existence of iron men such as have not yet
lived. Our first task must be to make the personal
ideal prevail and become realised \ He who has
understood the nature of man and the origin of
mankind's greatest specimens, shudders before man
and takes flight from all action : this is the result
of inherited valuations ! !

My consolation is, that the nature of man is evil,
and this guarantees his strength !

909.

The typical forms of self-development, or the
eight principal questions : —

1. Do we want to be more multifarious or more

simple than we are ?

2. Do we want to be happier than we are, or

more indifferent to both happiness and un-
happiness ?

THE ORDER OF RANK. 333

3. Do we want to be more satisfied with our-

selves,ormoreexactingand more inexorable?

4. Do we want to be softer, more yielding, and

more human than we are, or more in-
human ?

5. Do we want to be more prudent than we are,

or more daring?

6. Do we want to attain a goal, or do we want /

to avoid all goals (like the philosopher, for |
instance, who scents a boundary, a cul-de-
sac \ a prison, a piece of foolishness in every
goal) ?

7. Do we want to become more respected, or

more feared, or more despised"!

8. Do we want to become tyrants, and seducers,

or do we want to become shepherds and
gregarious animals ?

910.

The type of my disciples. — To such men as con-
cern me in any way I wish suffering, desolation,
sickness, ill-treatment, indignities of all kinds. I
wish them to be acquainted with profound self-
contempt, with the martyrdom of self-distrust, with
the misery of the defeated : I have no pity for
them ; because I wish them to have the only thing j
which to-day proves whether a man has any value |
or not, namely, the capacity of sticking to his guns. \

911.

The happiness and self-contentedness of the
lazzaroni, or the blessedness of " beautiful souls,"

334 THE WILL TO POWER.

or the consumptive love of Puritan pietists,
proves nothing in regard to the order of rank
among men. As a great educator one ought in-
exorably to thrash a race of such blissful creatures
into unhappiness. The danger of belittlement and
of a slackening of powers follows immediately —
I am opposed to happiness a la Spinoza or a la
Epicurus, and to all the relaxation of contemplative
states. But when virtue is the means to such
happiness, well then, one must master even virtue.

912.

I I cannot see how any one can make up for
\ having missed going to a good school at the proper
( time. Such a person does not know himself; he
walks through life without ever having learned to
walk. His soft muscles betray themselves at every
step. Occasionally life itself is merciful enough to
make a man recover this lost and severe schooling :
by means of periods of sickness, perhaps, which
exact the utmost will-power and self-control ; or
j by means of a sudden state of poverty, which
threatens his wife and child, and which may force
a man to such activity as will restore energy to his
slackened tendons, and a tough spirit to his will to
life. The most desirable thing of all, however, is,
under all circumstances to have severe discipline at
the right time, i.e. at that age when it makes us
proud that people should expect great things from
us. For this is what distinguishes hard schooling,
as good schooling, from every other schooling,
namely, that a good deal is demanded, that a good

THE ORDER OF RANK. 335

deal is severely exacted ; that goodness, nay even
excellence itself, is required as if it were normal ;
that praise is scanty, that leniency is non-existent ;
that blame is sharp, practical, and without reprieve,
and has no regard to talent and antecedents. We
are in every way in need of such a school : and
this holds good of corporeal as well as of spiritual
things ; it would be fatal to draw distinctions here ! *
The same discipline makes the soldier and the
scholar efficient ; and, looked at more closely, there
is no true scholar who has not the instincts of a
true soldier in his veins. To be able to command
and to be able to obey in a proud fashion ; to keep
one's place in rank and file, and yet to be ready
at any moment to lead ; to prefer danger to
comfort ; not to weigh what is permitted and
what is forbidden in a tradesman's balance ; to be
more hostile to pettiness, slyness, and parasitism
than to wickedness. What is it that one learns in
a hard school? — to obey and to command.

913.

We should repudiate merit — and do only that
which stands above all praise and above all under-|
standing.

914.

The new forms of morality : —

Faithful vows concerning that which one
wishes to do or to leave undone ; complete and
definite abstention from many things. Tests as
to whether one is ripe for such discipline.

/

\

33<> THE WILL TO POWER.

915.

It is my desire to naturalise asceticism : I would
substitute the old intention of asceticism, " self-
denial," by my own intention, " self- strengthening " :
a gymnastic of the will ; a period of abstinence
and occasional fasting of every kind, even in things
intellectual ; a casuistry in deeds, in regard to the
opinions which we derive from our powers ; we
should try our hand at adventure and at deliberate
dangers. (Diners chez Magny : all intellectual
gourmets with spoilt stomachs.) Tests ought also
to be devised for discovering a man's power in
keeping his word.

916.

The things which have become spoilt through
having been abused by the Church : —

(1) Asceticism. — People have scarcely got the
courage yet to bring to light the natural utility
and necessity of asceticism for the purpose of the
education of the will. Our ridiculous world of
education, before whose eyes the useful State
official hovers as an ideal to be striven for, believes
that it has completed its duty when it has in-
structed or trained the brain ; it never even
suspects that something else is first of all necessary
— the education of will-power ; tests are devised for
everything except for the most important thing
of all : whether a man can will, whether he can
promise ; the young man completes his education
without a question or an inquiry having been

THE ORDER OF RANK. 337

made concerning the problem of the highest value
of his nature.

(2) Fasting. — In every sense — even as a means
of maintaining the capacity for taking pleasure in
all good things (for instance, to give up reading
for a while, to hear no music for a while, to cease
from being amiable for a while : one ought also
to have fast days for one's virtues).

(3) The monastery. — Temporary isolation with
severe seclusion from all letters, for instance ; a
kind of profound introspection and self-recovery,
which does not go out of the way of " temptations,"
but out of the way of " duties " ; a stepping out
of the daily round of one's environment ; a detach-
ment from the tyranny of stimuli and external
influences, which condemns us to expend our
power only in reactions, and does not allow it to
gather volume until it bursts into spontaneous
activity (let anybody examine our scholars closely :
they only think reflexively, i.e. they must first
read before they can think).

(4) Feasts. — A man must be very coarse in order
not to feel the presence of Christians and Christian
values as oppressive, so oppressive as to send all
festive moods to the devil. By feasts we under-
stand : pride, high-spirits, exuberance ; scorn of
all kinds of seriousness and Philistinism ; a divine
saying of Yea to one's self, as the result of physical
plenitude and perfection — all states to which the
Christian cannot honestly say Yea. A feast is a\ I
pagan thing par excellence.

(5) The courage of one's ozvn nature : dressing-
up in morality. — To be able to call one's passions

VOL. ir. Y

338 THE WILL TO POWER.

good without the help of a moral formula : this is
the standard which measures the extent to which

man is able to say Yea to his own nature,
namely, how much or how little he has to have
recourse to morality.

(6) Death. — The foolish physiological fact must
be converted into a moral necessity. One should
live in such a way that one may have the will to
die at the right time !

917.

To feel one's self stronger — or, expressed other-
wise : happiness always presupposes a comparison
(not necessarily with others, but with one's self, in
the midst of a state of growth, and without being
conscious that one is comparing).

Artificial accentuation : whether by means of
J exciting chemicals or exciting errors (" halluci-
nations.")

Take, for instance, the Christian's feeling of
security ; he feels himself strong in his confidence,
in his patience, and his resignation : this artificial
accentuation he owes to the fancy that he is pro-
tected by a God. Take the feeling of superiority,
for instance : as when the Caliph of Morocco sees
only globes on which his three united kingdoms
cover four-fifths of the space. Take the feeling
of uniqueness, for instance : as when the European
imagines that culture belongs to Europe alone,
and when he regards himself as a sort of abridged
cosmic process ; or, as when the Christian makes
all existence revolve round the " Salvation of man."

The question is, where does one begin to feel the

THE ORDER OF RANK. 339

pressure of constraint : it is thus that different
degrees are ascertained. A philosopher, for instance,
in the midst of the coolest and most transmontane
feats of abstraction feels like a fish that enters its
element : while colours and tones oppress him ;
not to speak of those dumb desires — of that which
others call " the ideal."

918.

A healthy and vigorous little boy will look up
sarcastically if he be asked : " Wilt thou become
virtuous ? " — but he immediately becomes eager if
he be asked : " Wilt thou become stronger than
thy comrades ? "

*

How does one become stronger? — By deciding l\ /--
slowly ; and by holding firmly to the decision l\
once it is made. Everything else follows of itself.
Spontaneous and changeable natures : both species
of the weak. We must not confound ourselves
with them ; we must feel distance — betimes !

Beware of good-natured people ! Dealings with
them makejDne torpid. All environment is good
which makes one exercise those defensive and I
aggressive powers which are instinctive in man.
All one's inventiveness should apply itself to , -
putting one's power of will to the test. . . . Here
the determining factor must be recognised as
something which is not knowledge, astuteness, or J
wit. /

One must learn to command betimes, — likewise
to obey. A man must learn modesty and tact in

340 THE WILL TO POWER.

modesty : he must learn to distinguish and to
honour where modesty is displayed ; he must like-
wise distinguish and honour wherever he bestows
his confidence.

*

What does one repent most ? One's modesty ;
the fact that one has not lent an ear to one's most
individual needs ; the fact that one has mistaken
one's self; the fact that one has esteemed one's self
low ; the fact that one has lost all delicacy of
hearing in regard to one's instincts. — This want of
reverence in regard to one's self is avenged by all
sorts of losses : in health, friendship, well-being,
pride, cheerfulness, freedom, determination, cour-
age. A man never forgives himself, later on, for
this want of genuine egoism : he regards it as an
objection and as a cause of doubt concerning his
i real ego.

J 919.

S /I should like man to begin by respectijig himself :

(everything else follows of itself. Naturally a man
ceases from being anything to others in this way :
for this is precisely what they are least likely to
forgive. " What ? a man who respects himself? " *
This is something quite different from the blind
instinct to love one's self. Nothing is more common
in the love of the sexes or in that duality which is

* Cf. Disraeli in Tancred : " Self-respect, too, is a super-
stition of past ages. ... It is not suited to these times ; it is
much too arrogant, too self-conceited, too egoistical. No
one is important enough to have self-respect nowadays "
(book iii. chap. v.). — Tr.

S

THE ORDER OF RANK. 341

called ego, tharta certain contempt for that which
is loved : the fatalism of love.

920.

" I will have this or that " ; u I would that this
or that were so " ; "I know that this or that is
so " — the degrees of power : the man of will, the
man of desire, the man of fate.

921.

The means by which a strong species maintains
itself: —

It grants itself the right of exceptional actions,

as a test of the power of self-control and

of freedom.
It abandons itself to states in which a man is

not allowed to be anything else than a

barbarian.
It tries to acquire strength of will by every

kind of asceticism.
It is not expansive; it practises silence; it

is cautious in regard to all charms.
It learns to obey in such a way that obedi-
ence provides a test of self-maintenance.

£asujstry is carried to its highest pitch in

regard to points of honour.
It never argues, " What is sauce for the goose

is sauce for the gander," — but conversely !

it regards reward, and the ability to repay,

as a privilege, as a distinction.
It does not covet other people's virtues.

342 THE WILL TO POWER

922.

The way in which one has to treat raw savages
and the impossibility of dispensing with barbarous
methods, becomes obvious, in practice, when one
is transplanted, with all one's European pampering,
to a spot such as the Congo, or anywhere else
where it is necessary to maintain one's mastery
over barbarians.

923.

Warlike and peaceful people. — Art thou a man
who has the instincts of a warrior in thy blood ?
If this be so, another question must be put. Do
thy instincts impel thee to attack or to defend ?
The rest of mankind, all those whose instincts are
not warlike, desire peace, concord, "freedom,"
" equal rights " : these things are but names and
steps for one and the same thing. Such men only
wish to go where it is not necessary for them to
defend themselves, — such men become discon-
tented with themselves when they are obliged to
offer resistance: they would fain create circum-
stances in which war is no longer necessary. If
the worst came to the worst, they would resign
themselves, obey, and submit : all these things are
better than waging war — thus does the Christian's
instinct, for instance, whisper to him. In the born
warrior's character there is something of armour,
likewise in the choice of his circumstances and in
the development of every one of his qualities :
weapons are best evolved by the latter type, shields
are best devised by the former.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 343

What expedients and what virtues do the un-
armed and the undefended require in order to
survive — and even to conquer?

924.

What will become of a man who no longer has
any reasons for either defence or attack ? What
will remain of his passions when he has lost those
which form his defence and his weapons ?

925.

A marginal note to a niaiserie anglaise : " Do
not to others that which you would not that they
should do unto you." This stands for wisdom ;
this stands for prudence ; this stands as the very
basis of morality — as " a golden maxim." John
Stuart Mill believes in it (and what Englishman
does not?). . . . But the maxim does not bear
investigation. The argument, " Do not as you
would not be done by," forbids action which pro-
duce harmful results ; the thought behind always
is that an action is invariably requited. What if
some one came forward with the " Principe " in his
hands, and said : " We must do those actions alone
which enable us to steal a march on others, —
and which deprive others of the power of doing
the same to us " ? — On the other hand, let us re-
member the Corsican who pledges his honour to
vendetta. He too does not desire to have a bullet
through him ; but the prospect of one, the proba-
bility of getting one, does not deter him from

344 THE WILL TO POWER,

vindicating his honour. . . . And in all really de-
cent actions are we not intentionally indifferent as
to what result they will bring ? To avoid an action
which might have harmful results, — that would be
tantamount to forbidding all decent actions in
general.

Apart from this, the above maxim is valuable
because it betrays a certain type of man : it is the
instinct of the herd which formulates itself through
him, — we are equal, we regard each other as equal :
as I am to thee so art thou to me. — In this com-
munity equivalence of actions is really believed in

>, — an equivalence which never under any circum-
\ stances manifests itself in real conditions. It is

impossible to requite every action : among real
individuals equal actions do not exist, consequently
there can be no such thing as " requital." . . .
When I do anything, I am very far from thinking
that anylmaa jsjibte to do anything "aTall like~
it: the action belongs to me, t. . . Nobody carT
pay me back for anything I do ; the most that can
be done is to make me the victim of another
action.

926.

Against John Stuart Mill. — I abhor the man's
vulgarity when he says : " What is right for one
man is right for another " ; " Do not to others that
which you would not that they should do unto
you." Such principles would fain establish the
whole of human traffic upon mutual services^ so
that every action would appear to be a cash pay-
ment for something done to us. The hypothesis

THE ORDER OF RANK. 345

here is ignoble to the last degree: it_ is taken for
granted-that there is some sort of equivalence in
value between my actions and thine ; the most per-
sonal value of an action is simply cancelled in this
manner (that part of an action which has no
equivalent and which cannot be remunerated).
" Reciprocity " is a piece of egregious vulgarity ;
the mere fact that what I do cannot and may not
be done by another, that there is no such thing as
equivalence (except in those very select circles
where one actually has one's equal, inter pares),
that in a really profound sense a man never re-
quites because he is something unique in himself
and can only do unique things, — this fundamental /
conviction contains the cause of aristocratic aloof- \
ness/rom the mob, because the latter believes in
equality,and consequently in the feasibility of equiva-
lence and u reciprocity."

927.

The suburban Philistinism of moral valuations
and of its concepts " useful " and " harmful " is well
founded ; it is the necessary point of view of a
community which is only able to see and survey
immediate and proximate consequences.

The State and the political man are already in
need of a more super-moral attitude of mind :
because they have to calculate concerning a much *
more complicated tissue of consequences. An eco-
nomic policy for the whole world should be possible
which could look at things in such broad perspec-
tive that all its isolated demands would seem for
the moment not only unjust, but arbitrary.

I

^

346 THE WILL TO POWER.

928.

" Should one follow one's feelings f " — To set
one's life at stake on the impulse of the moment,
and actuated by a generous feeling, has little worth,
and does not even distinguish one. Everybody is
alike in being capable of this — and in behaving in
this way with determination, the criminal, thel
bandit, and the Corsican certainly outstrip the
honest man. ^

A higher degree of excellence would be to over-
come this impulse, and to refrain from performing
an heroic deed at its bidding, — and to remain cold,
raisonnable, free from the tempestuous surging of
concomitant sensations of delight. . . . The same
I holds good of pity : it must first be sifted through
J reason ; without this it becomes just as dangerous
as any other passion.

(The blind yielding to a passion, whether it be
generosity, pity, or hostility, is the cause of the
greatest evil. Greatness of character does not
S consist in not possessing these passions — on the
contrary, a man should possess them to a terrible
degree : but he should lead them by the bridle . . .
and even this he should not do out of love of con-
trol, but merely because. . . .

929.

" To give up one's life for a cause " — very effec-
tive. But there are many things for which one
gives up one's life : the passions, one and all, will
be gratified. Whether one's life be pledged to
pity, to anger, or to revenge — it matters not from

THE ORDER OF RANK. 347

the point of view of value. How many have not
sacrificed their lives for pretty girls — and even
what is worse, their health ! When one has
temperament, one instinctively chooses the most
dangerous things : if one is a philosopher, for in-
stance, one chooses the adventures of speculation ;
if one is virtuous, one chooses immorality. One
kind of man will risk nothing, another kind will
risk everything. Are we despisers of life? On
the contrary, what we seek is life raised to a
higher power, life in danger. . . . But, let me re-

fpeat, we do not, on that account, wish to be more
virtuous than others. Pascal, for instance, wished
to risk nothing, and remained a Christian. That
perhaps was virtuous. — A man always sacrifices
something.

930.

How many advantages does not a man sacrifice !
To how small an extent does he seek his own
profit ! All his emotions and passions wish to
assert their rights, and how remote a passion is
Irom that cautious utility which consists in
( personal profit !

A man does not strive after " happiness " ; one
must be an Englishman to be able to believe that
a man is always seeking his own advantage. .,
I Our desires long to violate things with passion —
their overflowing strength seeks obstacles.

931.

All passions are generally ttseful, some directly,
others indirectly ; in regard to utility it is abso-

y

fax*

V

X%

J

348 THE WILL TO POWER.

lutely impossible to fix upon any gradation of
values, — however certainly the forces of nature in
general may be regarded as good (i.e. useful),
from an economic point of view, they are still
the sources of much that is terrible and much
that is fatally irrevocable. The most one might
say would be, that the mightiest passions are the
most valuable : seeing that no stronger sources
of power exist.

932.

All well-meaning, helpful, good-natured attitudes
of mind have not come to be honoured on account
of their usefulness: but because they are the
conditions peculiar to rich souls who are able to
bestow and whose value consists in their vital
exuberance. Look into the eyes of the benevolent
man ! In them you will see the exact reverse
of self-denial, of hatred of self, of " Pascalism."

933.

In shorty what we require is to dominate the
passions and not to weaken or to extirpate
them ! — The greater the dominating power of the
will, the greater the freedom that may be given to
the passions.

The " great man " is so, owing to the free scope
which he gives to his desires, and to the still
greater power which knows how to enlist these
magnificent monsters into its service.

The " good man " in every stage of civilisation
is at one and the same time the least dangerous

THE ORDER OF RANK 349

and the most useful-, a sort of medium ; the idea
formed of such a man by the common mind is
that he is some one whom one has no reason to feat \
but whom one must not therefore despise.

Education : essentially a means of ruining ex-
ceptions in favour of the rule. Culture : essenti-
ally the means of directing taste against the
exceptions in favour of the mediocre.

Only when a culture can dispose of an overflow
of force, is it capable of being a hothouse for the k //^
luxurious culture of the exception, of the experi-
ment, of the danger, of the nuance : this is the
tendency of every aristocratic culture.

934.

All questions of strength : to what extent ought
one to try and prevail against the preservative
measures of society and the latter's prejudices ? —
to what extent ought one to unfetter one's terrible
qualities, through which so many go to the dogs ? —
to what extent ought one to run counter to truths
and take up sides with its most questionable
aspects ? — to what extent ought one to oppose
suffering, self-contempt, pity, disease, vice, when
it is always open to question whether one can
ever master them (what does not kill us makes
us stronger . . .) ? — and, finally, to what extent
ought one to acknowledge the rights of the rule,
of the common-place, of the petty, of the good, of
the upright, in fact of the average man, without
thereby allowing one's self to become vulgar ? . . .
The strongest test of character is to resist being

/

350 THE WILL TO POWER.

ruined by the seductiveness of goodness. Good-
ness must be regarded as a luxury, as a refine-
ment, as a vice.

3. The Noble Man.

935.

Type : real goodness, nobility, greatness of soul,
as the result of vital wealth : which does not give
in order to receive — and which has no desire to
elevate itself by being good ; — squandering is
typical of genuine goodness ; vital personal wealth
tU is its prerequisite.

936.

Aristocracy. — Gregarious ideals — at present
culminating in the highest standard of value for
society. It has been attempted to give them a
cosmic, yea, and even a metaphysical, value. — I
defend aristocracy against them.

Any society which would of itself preserve a
feeling of respect and dtticatesse in regard to
freedom, must consider itself as an exception, and
have a force against it from which it distinguishes
itself, and upon which it looks down with hostility.

The more rights I surrender and the more I
level myself down to others, the more deeply do
I sink into the average and ultimately into the
greatest number. The first condition which an
aristocratic society must have in order to maintain
a high degree of freedom among its members, is
that extreme tension which arises from the pres-

THE ORDER OF RANK. 35 I

ence of the most antagonistic instincts in all its
units : from their will to dominate. . . .

If ye would fain do away with strong contrasts
and differences of rank, ye will also abolish
strong love, lofty attitudes of mind, and the feeling
of individuality.

Concerning the actual psychology of societies
based upon freedom and equality. — What is it that
tends to diminish in such a society?

The will to be responsible for one 's self (the loss
of this is a sign of the decline of autonomy) ; the
ability to defend and to attack, even in spiritual
matters ; the power of command ; the sense of
reverence, of subservience, the ability to be silent ;
great passion, great achievements, tragedy and
cheerfulness.

937-

In 1 8 14 Augustin Thierry read what Mont-
losier had said in his work, De la Monarchic fran-
qaise : he answered with a cry of indignation, and
set himself to his task. That emigrant had said :
" Race d 'affranchis, race d'esclaves arrachh de nos
mains, peuple tributaire, peuple nouveau, licence vous
fut octroyh d'etre libres, et non pas d nous detre
nobles ; pour nous tout est de droit, pour vous tout
est de grdce, nous ne sommes point de votre com-
munaute' ; nous sommes un tout par nous memes."

938.
How constantly the aristocratic world shears
and weakens itself ever more and more ! By

J4

352 THE WILL TO POWER.

means of its noble instincts it abandons its
privileges, and owing to its refined and excessive
culture, it takes an interest in the people, the
weak, the poor, and the poetry of the lowly, etc.

939.

There is such a thing as a noble and dangerous
form of carelessness, which allows of profound
conclusions and insight : the carelessness of the
self-reliant and over-rich soul, which has never
troubled itself about friends, but which knows only
hospitality and knows how to practise it ; whose
heart and house are open to all who will enter —
beggar, cripple, or king. This is genuine sociability :
he who is capable of it has hundreds of " friends,"
but probably not one friend.

940.

The teaching fnjSev ayav applies to men with
j overflowing strength, — not to the mediocre. €7-
• Kpdreia and aatcrjais are only steps to higher
/ rl things. Above them stands " golden Nature."

" Thou shalt" — unconditional obedience in
Stoics, in Christian and Arabian Orders, in Kant's
philosophy (it is immaterial whether this obedience
is shown to a superior or to a concept).

Higher than " Thou shalt " stands " I will "
(the heroes) ; higher than " I will " stands " I am "
l(the gods of the Greeks).

Barbarian gods express nothing of the pleasure
i of restraint, — they are neither simple, nor light-
hearted, nor moderate.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 353

941.

The essence of our gardens and palaces (and to
the same extent the essence of all yearning after
riches) is the desire to rid the eye of disorder ana
vulgarity, and to build a home for our soul's nobility.

The majority of people certainly believe that
they will develop higher natures when those
beautiful and peaceful things have operated upon
them : hence the exodus to Italy, hence all travel- V
ling, etc., and all reading and visits to theatres. ff?>
People want to be formed — that is the kernel of
their labours for culture ! But the strong, the
mighty, would themselves have a hand in the form-
ing, and would fain have nothing strange about them !

It is for this reason, too, that men go to open
Nature, not to find themselves, but to lose them- \
selves and to forget themselves. The desire " to get
away from one's self" is proper to all weaklings, and
to all those who are discontented with themselves. /

942.

The only nobility is that of birth and blood.
(I do not refer here to the prefix " Lord " and
L almanac de Gotha : this is a parenthesis for
donkeys.) Wherever people speak of the " aristo-
cracy of intellect," reasons are generally not
lacking for concealing something ; it is known to
be a password among ambitious Jews. Intellect
alone does not ennoble ; on the contrary, some-
thing is always needed to ennoble intellect. — What
then is needed? — Blood.

VOL. 11. Z

354 THE WILL TO TOWER.

943-

What is noble 1

— External punctiliousness ; because this punc-
tiliousness hedges a man about, keeps him at a
distance, saves him from being confounded with
somebody else.

— A frivolous appearance in word, clothing, and
bearing, with which stoical hardness and self-
control protect themselves from all prying inquisi-
tiveness or curiosity.

— A slow step and a slow glance. There are
not too many valuable things on earth : and these
come and wish to come of themselves to him who
has value. We are not quick to admire.

— We know how to bear poverty, want, and
even illness.

— We avoid small honours owing to our mis-
trust of all who are over-ready to praise : for the
man who praises believes he understands what he
praises : but to understand — Balzac, that typical
man of ambition, betrayed the fact — comprendre
c'est tgaler.

— Our doubt concerning the communicativeness
of our hearts goes very deep ; to us, loneliness is
not a matter of choice, it is imposed upon us.

— We are convinced that we only have duties to
our equals, to others we do as we think best : we
know that justice is only to be expected among
equals (alas ! this will not be realised for some
time to come).

— We are ironical towards the " gifted " ; we
hold the belief that no morality is possible with-
out good birth.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 355

— We always feel as if we were those who had
to dispense honours : while he is not found too
frequently who would be worthy of honouring us.

— We are always disguised : the higher a man's
nature the more is he in need of remaining incog-
nito. If there be a God, then out of sheer decency
He ought only to show Himself on earth in the
form of a man.

— We are capable of otiumi of the uncondi-
tional conviction that although a handicraft does
not shame one in any sense, it certainly reduces
one's rank. However much we may respect " in-
dustry," and know how to give it its due, we do
not appreciate it in a bourgeois sense, or after the
manner of those insatiable and cackling artists who,
like hens, cackle and lay eggs, and cackle again.

— We protect artists and poets and any one
who happens to be a master in something ; but as
creatures of a higher order than those, who only
know how to do something, who are only " pro-
ductive men," we do not confound ourselves with
them.

— We find joy in all forms and ceremonies ;
we would fain foster everything formal, and we
are convinced that courtesy is one of the greatest
virtues ; we feel suspicious of every kind of laisser
aller, including the freedom of the press and of
thought ; because, under such conditions, the intel-
lect grows easy-going and coarse, and stretches
its limbs.

— We take pleasure in women as in a perhaps
daintier, more delicate, and more ethereal kind of
creature. What a treat it is to meet creatures

356 THE WILL TO POWER.

who have only dancing and nonsense and finery
in their minds ! They have always been the de-
light of every tense and profound male soul, whose
life is burdened with heavy responsibilities.

— We take pleasure in princes and in priests,
because in big things, as in small, they actually up-
hold the belief in the difference of human values,
even in the estimation of the past, and at least
symbolically.

— We are able to keep silence : but we do not
breathe a word of this in the presence of listeners.

— We are able to endure long enmities : we
lack the power of easy reconciliations.

— We have a loathing of demagogism, of en-
lightenment, of amiability, and plebeian familiarity.

— We collect precious things, the needs of
higher and fastidious souls ; we wish to possess
nothing in common. We want to have our own
books, our own landscapes.

— We protest against evil and fine experiences,
and take care not to generalise too quickly. The
individual case : how ironically we regard it when
it has the bad taste to put on the airs of a rule !

— We love that which is naif, and naif people,
but as spectators and higher creatures ; we think
Faust is just as simple as his Margaret.

— We have a low estimation of good people,
because they are gregarious animals : we know
I how often an invaluable golden drop of goodness
lies concealed beneath the most evil, the most
malicious, and the hardest exterior, and that this
single grain outweighs all the mere goody-goodi-
ness of milk-and-watery souls.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 357

— We don't regard a man of our kind as refuted
by his vices, nor by his tomfooleries. We are well
aware that we are not recognised with ease, and
that we have every reason to make our foreground
very prominent.

944.

What is noble f — The fact that one is constantly
forced to be playing a part. That one is constantly
searching for situations in which one is forced
to put on airs. That one leaves happiness to the
greatest number : the happiness which consists of
inner peacefulness, of virtue, of comfort, and of
Anglo-angelic-back-parlour-smugness,# la Spencer.
That one instinctively seeks for heavy responsi-
bilities. That one knows how to create enemies
everywhere, at a pinch even in one's self. That one
contradicts the greatest number, not in words at
all, but by continually behaving differently from
them.

945-

Virtue (for instance, truthfulness) is our most
noble and most dangerous luxury. We must not
decline the disadvantages which it brings in its
train.

946.

We refuse to be praised : we do what serves our
purpose, what gives us pleasure, or what we are
obliged to do.

947.

What is chastity in a man ? It means that his
taste in sex has remained noble ; that in eroticis

is

358 THE WILL TO POWER

he likes neither the brutal, the morbid, nor the
clever.

948.

The concept of honour is founded upon the
belief in select society, in knightly excellences, in
the obligation of having continually to play a part.
In essentials it means that one does not take one's
life too seriously, that one adheres unconditionally
to the most dignified manners in one's dealings
with everybody (at least in so far as they do not
belong to " us ") ; that one is neither familiar, nor
good-natured, nor hearty, nor modest, except inter
pares ; that one is always playing a part.

949.

The fact that one sets one's life, one's health,
and one's honour at stake, is the result of high
spirits and of an overflowing and spendthrift will :
it is not the result of philanthropy, but of the fact
that every danger kindles our curiosity concern-
ing the measure of our strength, and provokes our
courage.

950.

" Eagles swoop down straight " — nobility of
soul is best revealed by the magnificent and proud
foolishness with which it makes its attacks.

951.

/ War should be made against all namby-pamby
ideas of nobility ! — A certain modicum of brutality

THE ORDER OF RANK. 359

cannot be dispensed with : no more than we can do
without a certain approximation to criminality.
" Self-satisfaction " must not be allowed ; a man
should look upon himself with an adventurous
spirit ; he should experiment with himself and
run risks with himself — no beautiful soul-quackery
should be tolerated. I want to give a more robust
ideal a chance of prevailing.

952.

" Paradise is under the shadow of a swordsman "
— this is also a symbol and a test-word by which
souls with noble and warrior-like origin betray and
discover themselves.

953.

The two paths. — There comes a period when
man has a surplus amount of power at his dis-
posal. Science aims at establishing the slavery of
nature.

Then man acquires the leisure in which to
develop himself into something new and more
lofty. A new aristocracy. It is then that a large
number of virtues which are now conditions of
existence are superseded. — Qualities which are no
longer needed are on that account lost. We no
longer need virtues : consequently we are losing
them (likewise the morality of "one thing is
needful," of the salvation of the soul, and of im-
mortality : these were means wherewith to make
man capable of enormous self-tyranny, through the
emotion of great fear ! ! !).

The different kinds of needs by means of whose

\s

360 THE WILL TO POWER.

discipline man is formed : need teaches work,
thought, and self-control.

*

Physiological purification and strengthening. The
new aristocracy is in need of an opposing body
which it may combat : it must be driven to ex-
tremities in order to maintain itself.

The two futures of mankind-, (i) the conse-
quence of a levelling-down to mediocrity ; (2)
conscious aloofness and self-development.

A doctrine which would cleave a gulf-, it main-
tains the highest and the lowest species (it destroys
the intermediate).

The aristocracies, both spiritual and temporal,
which have existed hitherto prove nothing against
the necessity of a new aristocracy.

4. The Lords of the Earth.

954-

A certain question constantly recurs to us ; it is
perhaps a seductive and evil question ; may it be
whispered into the ears of those who have a right
to such doubtful problems — those strong souls of
to-day whose dominion over themselves is un-
swerving : is it not high time, now that the type
" gregarious animal " is developing ever more and
more in Europe, to set about rearing, thoroughly,
artificially, and consciously, an opposite type, and
to attempt to establish the latter's virtues ? And
would not the democratic movement itself find for

THE ORDER OF RANK. 361

the first time a sort of goal, salvation, and justifi-
cation, if some one appeared who availed himself
of it — so that at last, beside its new and sublime
product, slavery (for this must be the end of
European democracy), that higher species of ruling
and Caesarian spirits might also be produced,
which would stand upon it, hold to it, and would
elevate themselves through it ? This new race
would climb aloft to new and hitherto impossible
things, to a broader vision, and to its task on
earth.

955-

The aspect of the European of to-day makes
me very hopeful. A daring and ruling race is
here building itself up upon the foundation of an
extremely intelligent, gregarious mass. It is
obvious that the educational movements for the
latter are not alone prominent nowadays.

956.

The same conditions which go to develop the
gregarious animal also force the development of
the leaders.

957.

The question, and at the same time the task, is •x-
approaching with hesitation, terrible as Fate, but
nevertheless inevitable : how shall the earth as a
whole be ruled ? And to what end shall man as
a whole — no longer as a people or as a race — be
reared and trained ?

Legislative moralities are the principal means

362 THE WILL TO POWER.

by which one can form mankind, according to the
fancy 01 a creative and profound will : provided,
of course, that such an artistic will of the first
order gets the power into its own hands, and can
make its creative will prevail over long periods in
the form of legislation, religions, and morals. At
present, and probably for some time to come, one
will seek such colossally creative men, such really
great men, as I understand them, in vain : they
will be lacking, until, after many disappointments,
we are forced to begin to understand why it is
they are lacking, and that nothing bars with
greater hostility their rise and development, at
present and for some time to come, than that
which is now called the morality in Europe. Just
as if there were no other kind of morality, and
could be no other kind, than the one we have
already characterised as herd-morality. It is this
. morality which is now striving with all its power
\ to attain to that green-meadow happiness on earth,
\ which consists in security, absence of danger, ease,
I facilities for livelihood, and, last but not least, " if
all goes well," even hopes to dispense with all
j kinds of shepherds and bell-wethers. The two
doctrines which it preaches most universally are
r ~" equality of rights " and " pity for all sufferers " —
and it even regards suffering itself as something
which must be got rid of absolutely. That such
ideas may be modern leads one to think very
poorly of modernity. He, however, who has re-
flected deeply concerning the question, how and
where the plant man has hitherto grown most
vigorously, is forced to believe that this has

THE ORDER OF RANK. 363

always taken place under the opposite conditions ;
that to this end the danger of the situation has to
increase enormously, his inventive faculty and
dissembling powers have to fight their way up
under long oppression and compulsion, and his
will to life has to be increased to the uncon-
ditioned will to power, to over-power : he believes
that danger, severity, violence, peril in the street
and in the heart, inequality of rights, secrecy,
stoicism, seductive art, and devilry of every kind —
in short, the opposite of all gregarious desiderata —
are necessary for the elevation of man. Such a
morality with opposite designs, which would rear
man upwards instead of to comfort and mediocrity ;
such a morality, with the intention of producing a
ruling caste — the future lords of the earth — must,
in order to be taught at all, introduce itself as if
it were in some way correlated to the prevailing
moral law, and must come forward under the
cover of the latter's words and forms. But seeing
that, to this end, a host of transitionary and de-
ceptive measures must be discovered, and that the
life of a single individual stands for almost nothing
in view of the accomplishment of such lengthy
tasks and aims, the first thing that must be done
is- tongar a newkindoi man in whom the duration
of the necessary will and the necessary instincts
is guaranteed for many generations. This must
be a new kind of ruling species and caste — this
ought to be quite as clear as the somewhat lengthy
and not easily expressed consequences of this
thought. The. aim should.be to prepare a trans-
valuation of values for a particularly strong kind of

364 THE WILL TO POWER.

man, most highly gifted in intellect and will, and,
to this end, slowly and cautiously to liberate in
him a whole host of slandered instincts hitherto
held in check : whoever meditates about this
problem belongs to us, the free spirits — certainly
not to that kind of " free spirit " which has existed
hitherto : for these desired practically the reverse.
To this order, it seems to me, belong, above all,
the pessimists of Europe, the poets and thinkers
of a revolted idealism, in so far as their discontent
with existence in general must consistently at least
have led them to be dissatisfied with the man of
the present; the same applies to certain insati-
ably ambitious artists who courageously and un-
conditionally fight against the gregarious animal
for the special rights of higher men, and subdue
all herd-instincts and precautions of more ex-
ceptional minds by their seductive art. Thirdly
and lastly, we should include in this group all
those critics and historians by whom the dis-
covery of the Old World, which has begun so
happily — this was the work of the new Columbus,
of German intellect — will be courageously con-
tinued (for we still stand in the very first stages
of this conquest). For in the Old World, as a
matter of fact, a different and more lordly morality
ruled than that of to-day ; and the man of antiquity,
under the educational ban of his morality, was
a stronger and deeper man than the man of
to-day — up to the present he has been the
only well - constituted man. The temptation,
however, which from antiquity to the present
day has always exercised its power on such lucky

THE ORDER OF RANK. 365

strokes of Nature, i.e. on strong and enterprising
souls, is, even at the present day, the most subtle
and most effective of anti-democratic and anti-
Christian powers, just as it was in the time of the
Renaissance.

958.

I am writing for a race of men which does not
yet exist : for " the lords of the earth."

In Plato's Theages the following passage will
be found : " Every one of us would like if possible
to be master of mankind ; if possible, a God!' This
attitude of mind must be reinstated in our midst.

Englishmen, Americans, and Russians.

959.

That primeval forest-plant " Man " always
appears where the struggle for power has been
waged longest. Great men.

Primeval forest creatures, the Romans.

960.

From now henceforward there will be such
favourable first conditions for greater ruling powers
as have never yet been found on earth. And
this is by no means the most important point.
The establishment has been made possible of in-
ternational race unions which will set themselves
the task of rearing a ruling race, the future " lords
of the earth " — a new, vast aristocracy based upon
the most severe self-discipline, in which the will of
philosophical men of power and artist-tyrants will

/

366 THE WILL TO POWER.

be stamped upon thousands of years : a higher
species of men which, thanks to their preponder-
ance of will, knowledge, riches, and influence, will
avail themselves of democratic Europe as the
most suitable and supple instrument they can
have for taking the fate of the earth into their
own hands, and working as artists upon man him-
self. Enough! The time is coming for us to
transform all our views on politics. '

5. The Great Man.

961.

I will endeavour to see at which periods in
history great men arise. The significance of
despotic moralities that have lasted a long time :
they strain the bow, provided they do not break it.

962.

A great man, — a man whom Nature has built up
aria mveiffcQln a grand style, — What is 511 r.h a
man ? First, in his general course of action his
consistency is so broad that owing to ifo very
breadth it can be surveyed only with difficu 1 ty ,
and consequently misleads ; { he possesses the
'capacity of extending his will over great stretches
of his life, and of despising and rejecting all small
things, whatever most beautiful and " divine "
things of the world there may be among them. )
Secondly, he is colder •, harder, less cautious a?id mo7'e

[\§econ

van.

]/ xfreejrotn ike fear of " public opinion " ; he does not

THE ORDER OF RANK. 367

possess the virtues^ which a£e___mmpatih1f> with

respec t abi 1 i *y~~anri with N»i"g r^p^t^, nvr any

of those things which are counted among the

" virtues of the herd."/ If he is unable, to Uadx he_ ^ '

walks alone; (tip [n^r"Thg^prfHK»rrrr £Hunt^a£>

n\arjy^hjrjfls ijyju^h/jie 'feeds 0/1 rrisfoyffi. Thirdly^ "^>

he asks for no^compassionatp" heart, but servants,',

instruments ; in his dealings with men his one

aim is to make something out of them. He knows

that he cannot reveal himself to anybody : he

thinks it bad taste to become familiar ; and as a

rule he is not familiar when people think he is.

When he is not talking to his soul, he wears a

mask. He would rather lie than tell the truth,

because lying requires more spirit and will. Tjhere u *

is~"a loneliness within his-Jieart which neither v, \ ^

praise nor blame can reach, because he js his own

judge from whom is no appeal.

963.

The great man is necessarily a sceptic (I do
not mean to say by this that he must appear to
be one), provided that greatness consists in this :
to will something great, together with the means 1
thereto. Freedom from any kind of conviction is |
a factor in his strength of will. And thus it is
in keeping with that " enlightened form of des-
potism " which every great passion exercises.
Such a passion enlists intellect in its service ;
it even has the courage for unholy means ; it
creates without hesitation ; it allows itself con-
victions, it even uses them, but it never submits

368 THE WILL TO POWER.

to them. The need of faith and of anything un-
conditionally negative or affirmative is a proof of
weakness ; all weakness is weakness of will. The
man of faith, the believer, is necessarily an inferior
species of man. From this it follows that " all
freedom of spirit," i.e. instinctive scepticism, is the
prerequisite of greatness.

964.

The great man is conscious of his power over a
people, and of the fact that he coincides temporarily
with a people or with a century — this magnifying
of his self-consciousness as causa and voluntas is
misunderstood as " altruism " : he feels driven to
means of communication : all great men are in-
ventive in such means. They want to form great
communities in their own image ; they would fain
give multiformity and disorder definite shape ; it
stimulates them to behold chaos.

The misunderstanding of love. There is a
slavish love which subordinates itself and gives itself
away — which idealises and deceives itself; there
is a divine species of love which despises and loves
at the same time, and which remodels and elevates
the thing it loves.

\ The object is to attain that enormous energy of
\greatness which can model the man of the future
by means of discipline and also by means of the
annihilation of millions of the bungled and botched,
• and which can yet avoid going to ruin at the sight
,: of the suffering created thereby, the like of which
lhas never been seen before.

THE ORDER OF RANK. 369

965.

The revolution, confusion, and distress of whole
peoples is in my opinion of less importance than
the misfortunes which attend great individuals in
their development. We must not allow ourselves
to be deceived : the many misfortunes of all these
small folk do not together constitute a sum-total,
except in the feelings of mighty men.— To think of
one's self in moments of great danger, and to draw
one's own advantage from the calamities of thou-
sands— in the case of the man who diners very much
from the common ruck — may be a sign of a great
character which is able to master its feelings of
pity and justice.

966.

In contradistinction to the animal, man has
developed such a host of antagonistic instincts and
impulses in himself, that he has become master of
the earth by means of this synthesis.— Moralities
are only the expression of local and limited orders
of rank in this multifarious world of instincts which
prevent man from perishing through their antag-
onism. Thus a masterful instinct so weakens
and subtilises the instinct which opposes it that it
becomes an impulse which provides the stimulus
for the activity of the principal instinct.

The highest man would have the greatest
multifariousness in his instincts, and he would
possess these in the relatively strongest degree in
which he is able to endure them. As a matter of
fact, wherever the plant, man, is found strong,

VOL. II. 2 A

370 THE WILL TO POWER.

mighty instincts are to be found opposing each
other {e.g. Shakespeare), but they are subdued.

967.

1 Would one not be justified in reckoning all
great men among the wicked} This is not so
'easy to demonstrate in the case of individuals.
• They are so frequently capable of masterly dis-
* simulation that they very often assume the airs and
forms of great virtues. Often, too, they seriously
reverence virtues, and in such a way as to be
passionately hard towards themselves ; but as the
result of cruelty. Seen from a distance such things
are liable to deceive. Many, on the other hand,
misunderstand themselves ; not infrequently, too,
a great mission will call forth great qualities, e.g.
justice. The essential fact is : the greatest men
may also perhaps have great virtues, but then
they also have the opposites of these virtues. I
believe that it is precisely out of the presence
of these opposites and of the feelings they suscitate,
that the great man arises, — for the great man is the
broad arch which spans two banks lying far apart.

968.

In great men we find the specific qualities ol
life in their highest manifestation : injustice, false-
hood, exploitation. But inasmuch as their effect
has always been overwhelming, their essential
nature has been most thoroughly misunderstood,

M

THE ORDER OF RANK. 37 1

and interpreted as goodness. The type of such
an interpreter would be Carlyle.*

969.

Generally speaking, everything is worth no more
and no less than one has paid for it. This of
course does not hold good in the case of an isolated
individual : the great capacities of the individual
have no relation whatsoever to that which he has
done, sacrificed, and suffered for them. But if
one should examine the previous history of his
race one would be sure to find the record of an
extraordinary storing up and capitalising of power
by means of all kinds of abstinence, struggle, in-
dustry, and determination. It is because the great
man has cost so much, and not because he stands
there as a miracle, as a gift from heaven, or as
an accident, that he became great : " Heredity "
is a false notion. A man's ancestors have always
paid the price of what he is.

970.

The danger of modesty. — To adapt ourselves
too early to duties, societies, and daily schemes of
work in which accident may have placed us, at a
time when neither our powers nor our aim in life
has stepped peremptorily into our consciousness ;

* This not only refers to Heroes and Hero- Worship, but
doubtless to Carlyle's prodigious misunderstanding of Goethe
—a misunderstanding which still requires to be put right by
a critic untainted by Puritanism. — Tr.

372 THE WILL TO POWER.

the premature certainty of conscience and feeling
of relief and of sociability which is acquired by
this precocious, modest attitude, and which appears
to our minds as a deliverance from those inner and
outer disturbances of our feelings — all this pampers
and keeps a man down in the most dangerous
fashion imaginable. To learn to respect things
which people about us respect, as if we had no
standard or right of our own to determine values ;
the strain of appraising things as others appraise
them, counter to the whisperings of our inner taste,
which also has a conscience of its own, becomes
a terribly subtle kind of constraint : and if in the
end no explosion takes place which bursts all the
bonds of love and morality at once, then such a
spirit becomes withered, dwarfed, feminine, and
objective. The reverse of this is bad enough, but
still it is better than the foregoing : to suffer from
one's environment, from its praise just as much as
from its blame ; to be wounded by it and to fester
inwardly without betraying the fact; to defend
one's self involuntarily and suspiciously against its
love ; to learn to be silent, and perchance to conceal
this by talking ; to create nooks and safe, lonely
hiding-places where one can go and take breath
for a moment, or shed tears of sublime comfort —
until at last one has grown strong enough to say :
" What on earth have I to do with you ? " and to
go one's way alone.

971.

Those men who are in themselves destinies, and
whose advent is the advent of fate, the whole race of

THE ORDER OF RANK. 373

heroic bearers of burdens : oh ! how heartily and
gladly would they have respite from themselves for
once in a while ! — how they crave after stout hearts
and shoulders, that they might free themselves, were
it bwt for an hour or two, from that which oppresses
them ! And how fruitlessly they crave ! . . .
They wait- thev observe all that passes before
their eyes: no man even cometh nigh^to them with a
tr[ousancTth pan 01 TKeir suffering and passion ; no
manguesseth to what end they have waited. TTT"
At last, at last, they learn the first lesson of their
life : to wait no longer ; and forthwith they learn
their second lesson : to be affable, to be modest ;
and from that time onwards to endure everybody
and every kind of thing — in short, to endure still
a little more than they had endured theretofore.

6. The Highest Man as Lawgiver of
the Future.

972.

The lawgivers of the future. — After having tried
for a long time in vain to attach a particular
meaning to the word " philosopher," — for I found
many antagonistic traits, — I recognised that we can
distinguish between two kinds of philosophers : —

(1) Those who desire to establish any large /
system of values (logical or moral) ; /

(2) Those who are the lawgivers of such valua- ,
tions.

The former try to seize upon the world of the
present or the past, by embodying or abbreviating

374 THE WILL T0 power.

the multifarious phenomena by means of signs :
their object is to make it possible for us to survey,
to reflect upon, to comprehend, and to utilise
everything that has happened hitherto — they serve
the purpose of man by using all past things to
the benefit of his future.

The second class, however, are commanders ; they
say : " Thus shall it be ! " They alone determine
the " whither " and the " wherefore," and that
which will be useful and beneficial to man ; they
have command over the previous work of scientific
men, and all knowledge is to them only a means
to their creations. This second kind of philosopher
seldom appears ; and as a matter of fact their
situation and their danger is appalling. How often
have they not intentionally blindfolded their eyes
in order to shut out the sight of the small strip of
ground which separates them from the abyss and
from utter destruction. Plato, for instance, when
he persuaded himself that " the good," as he wanted
it, was not Plato's good, but " the good in itself,"
the eternal treasure which a certain man of the
name of Plato had chanced to find on his way !
This same will to blindness prevails in a much
coarser form in the case of the founders of religion ;
their " Thou shalt " must on no account sound to
their ears like " I will," — they only dare to pursue
their task as if under the command of God ; their
legislation of values can only be a burden they can
bear if they regard it as " revelation," in this way
their conscience is not crushed by the responsi-
bility.

As soon as those two comforting expedients —

THE ORDER OF RANK. 375

that of Plato and that of Muhammed — have been
overthrown, and no thinker can any longer relieve
his conscience with the hypothesis " God " or
" eternal values," the claim of the lawgiver to de-
termine new values rises to an awfulness which has
not yet been experienced. Now those elect, on
whom the faint light of such a duty is beginning
to dawn, try and see whether they cannot escape
it — as their greatest danger — by means of a
timely side-spring : for instance,they try to persuade
themselves that their task is already accomplished,
or that it defies accomplishment, or that their
shoulders are not broad enough for such burdens,
or that they are already taken up with burdens
closer to hand, or even that this new and remote
duty is a temptation and a seduction, drawing
them away from all other duties ; a disease, a kind of
madness. Many, as a matter of fact, do succeed in
evading the path appointed to them: throughout the
whole of history we can see the traces of such de-
serters and their guilty consciences. In most cases,
however, there comes to such men of destiny that 1
hour of delivery, that autumnal season of maturity,!
in which they are forced to do that which they did]
not even "wish to do": and that deed before!
which in the past they have trembled most, falls;
easily and unsought from the tree, as an involun-j
tary deed, almost as a present

973-

The human horizon. — Philosophers may be con-
ceived as men who make the greatest efforts to

376 THE WILL TO POWER.

discover to what extent man can elevate himself —
this holds good more particularly of Plato : how
far maris power can extend. But they do this as
individuals ; perhaps the instinct of Caesars and
of all founders of states, etc., was greater, for it pre-
occupied itself with the question how far man could
be urged forward in development under " favourable
circumstances." What they did not sufficiently
understand, however, was the nature of favourable
circumstances. The great question : " Where has the
plant ■ man ' grown most magnificently heretofore?"
In order to answer this, a comparative study of
history is necessary.

974-

Every fact and every work exercises a fresh
f^ j persuasion over every age and every new species
of man. History always enunciates new truths.

975.

To remain objective, severe, firm, and hard
while making a thought prevail is perhaps the best
forte of artists ; but if for this purpose any one have
to work upon human material (as teachers, states-
men, have to do, etc.), then the repose, the coldness,
and the hardness soon vanish. In natures like Caesar
and Napoleon we are able to divine something of
the nature of " disinterestedness " in their work on
their marble, whatever be the number of men that
are sacrificed in the process. In this direction the
future of higher men lies : to bear the greatest re-
sponsibilities and not to go to rack and ruin

THE ORDER OF RANK. 377

through them. — Hitherto the deceptions of inspira-
tion have almost always been necessary for a man
not to lose faith in his own hand, and in his right
to his task.

The reason why philosophers are mostly failures.
Because among the conditions which determine
them there are qualities which generally ruin other
men : —

(1) A philosopher must have an enormous
multiplicity of qualities ; he must be a sort of ab-
breviation of man and have all man's high and
base desires : the danger of the contrast within
him, and of the possibility of his loathing him-
self;

(2) He must be inquisitive in an extraordinary
number of ways : the danger of versatility ;

(3) He must be just and honest in the highest
sense, but profound both in love and hate (and in
injustice) ;

(4) He must not only be a spectator but a law-
giver : a judge and defendant (in so far as he is an
abbreviation of the world) ;

(5) He must be extremely multiform and yet
firm and hard. He must be supple.

977-

The really regal calling of the philosopher •
(according to the expression of Alcuin the Anglo-
Saxon) : " Prava corrigere, et recta corroborare> et
sancta sublimare."

378 THE WILL TO POWER.

978.

V The new philosopher can only arise in conjunc-

tion with a ruling class, as the highest spiritualisa-
tion of the latter. Great politics, the rule of the
earth, as a proximate contingency ; the total lack of
principles necessary thereto.

979-

Fundamental concept : the new values must first
be created — this remains our duty ! The philoso-
pher must be our lawgiver. New species. (How
the greatest species hitherto [for instance, the
Greeks] were reared : this kind of accident must
now be consciously striven for.)

980.

Nj Supposing one thinks of the philosopher as an

educator who, looking down from his lonely eleva-
tion, is powerful enough to draw long chains of
generations up to him : then he must be granted
the most terrible privileges of a great educator.
An educator never says what he himself thinks ;
\but only that which he thinks it is good for those
(whom he is educating to hear upon any subject.
/This dissimulation on his part must not be found
out ; it is part of his masterliness that people should
believe in his honesty, he must be capable of all
the means of discipline and education : there are
some natures which he will only be able to raise
by means of lashing them with his scorn ; others
who are lazy, irresolute, cowardly, and vain, he will

THE ORDER OF RANK. 379

be able to affect only with exaggerated praise.
Such a teacher stands beyond good and evil, but
nobody must know that he does.

981.

We must not make men " better," we must not /
talk to them about morality in any form as if j
" morality in itself," or an ideal kind of man in j
general, could be taken for granted ; but we must / 1
create circumstances in which stronger men are / j
necessary , such as for their part will require a /
morality (or, better still: a bodily and spiritual \^
discipline) which makes men strong, and upon
which they will consequently insist ! As they will
need one so badly, they will have it.

We must not let ourselves be seduced by blue
eyes and heaving breasts : greatness of soul has
absolutely nothing romantic about it. And unfortu-
nately nothing ivhatever amiable either.

982.

From warriors we must learn: (1) to associate "^
death with those interests for which we are fighting
— that makes us venerable ; (2) we must learn to
sacrifice numbers, and to take our cause sufficiently ^
seriously not to spare men ; (3) we must practise
inexorable discipline, and allow ourselves violence
and cunning in war.

983.

The education which rears those ruling virtues
that allow a man to become master of his benevo-

¥■

I

380 THE WILL TO POWER.

lence and his pity : the great disciplinary virtues
(" Forgive thine enemies " is mere child's play beside
them), and the passions of the creator, must be ele-
vated to the heights — we must cease from carving
marble ! The exceptional and powerful position
of those creatures (compared with that of all
princes hitherto) : the Roman Caesar with Christ's
soul.

984.

We must not separate greatness of soul from
intellectual greatness. For the former involves
independence-, but without intellectual greatness
independence should not be allowed ; all it does is
to create disasters even in its lust of well-doing
and of practising "justice." Inferior spirits must
obey, consequently they cannot be possessed of
greatness.

985.

The more lofty philosophical man who is sur-
rounded by loneliness, not because he wishes to be
alone, but because he is what he is, and cannot find
his equal : what a number of dangers and torments
are reserved for him, precisely at the present time,
when we have lost our belief in the order of rank,
and consequently no longer know how to under-
stand or honour this isolation ! Formerly the sage
almost sanctified himself in the consciences of the
mob by going aside in this way ; to-day the anchor-
ite sees himself as though enveloped in a cloud of
gloomy doubt and suspicions. And not alone by the

THE ORDER OF RANK. 38 1

envious and the wretched : in every well-meant act
that he experiences he is bound to discover mis-
understanding, neglect, and superficiality. He
knows the crafty tricks of foolish pity which makes
these people feel so good and holy when they
attempt to save him from his own destiny, by
giving him more comfortable situations and more
decent and reliable society. Yes, he will even get
to admire the unconscious lust of destruction with
which all mediocre spirits stand up and oppose him,
believing all the while that they have a holy right
to do so ! For men of such incomprehensible
loneliness it is necessary to put a good stretch ot
country between them and the officiousness of their
fellows : this is part of their prudence. For such
a man to maintain himself uppermost to-day amid
the dangerous maelstroms of the age which threaten
to draw him under, even cunning and disguise will
be necessary. Every attempt he makes to order
his life in the present and with the present, every
time he draws near to these men and their modern
desires, he will have to expiate as if it were an
actual sin : and withal he may look with wonder
at the concealed wisdom of his nature, which after
every one of these attempts immediately leads him
back to himself by means of illnesses and painful
accidents.

986.

" Maledetto colui
che contrista un spirto immortal ! "

Manzoni {Conte di Carmagnola, Act II.)

382 THE WILL TO POWER.

987

The most difficult and the highest form which
man can attain is the most seldom successful 1
thus the history of philosophy reveals a super-
abundance of bungled and unhappy cases of man-
hood, and its march is an extremely slow one ;
whole centuries intervene and suppress what has
been achieved : and in this way the connecting-
link is always made to fail. It is an appalling
history, this history of the highest men, of the
sages. — What is most often damaged is precisely
the recollection of great men, for the semi-successful
and botched cases of mankind misunderstand
them and overcome them by their " successes."
Whenever an " effect " is noticeable, the masses
gather in a crowd round it ; to hear the inferior
and the poor in spirit having their say is a terrible
ear-splitting torment for him who knows and
trembles at the thought, that the fate of man
depends upon the success of its highest types. —
From the days of my childhood I have reflected
upon the sage's conditions of existence, and I will
not conceal my happy conviction that in Europe
he has once more become possible — perhaps only
for a short time.

988.

These new philosophers begin with a description
of a systematic order of rank and difference of
value among men, — what they desire is, alas
precisely the reverse of an assimilation and
equalisation of man : they teach estrangement

THE ORDER OF RANK. 383

in every sense, they cleave gulfs such as have
never yet existed, and they would fain have man
become more evil than he ever was. For the
present they live concealed and estranged even
from each other. For many reasons they will find
it necessary to be anchorites and to wear masks —
they will therefore be of little use in the matter of
seeking for their equals. They will live alone, and
probably know the torments of all the loneliest
forms of loneliness. Should they, however, thanks to
any accident, meet each other on the road, I wager
that they would not know each other, or that they
would deceive each other in a number of ways.

989.

" Les philosophes ne sont pas faits pour s'aimer. 1^
Les aigles ne volent point en compagnie. II faut
laisser cela aux perdrix, aux e'tourneaux. . .
Planer au-dessus et avoir des griffes, voila le lot
des grands g^nies." — GALIANI.

990.

I forgot to say that such philosophers are
cheerful, and that they like to sit in the abyss
of a perfectly clear sky : they are in need of
different means for enduring life than other men ;
for they suffer in a different way (that is to say,
just as much from the depth of their contempt of
man as from their love of man). — The animal l ^
which suffered most on earth discovered for itself J
^-laughter.

/

384 THE WILL TO POWER.

991.

Concerning the misunderstanding of "cheerful-
ness?— It is a temporary relief from long tension ;
it is the wantonness, the Saturnalia of a spirit,
which is consecrating and preparing itself for long
and terrible resolutions. The " fool " in the form
of " science."

992.

The new order of rank among spirits ; tragic
natures no longer in the van.

993.

It is a comfort to me to know that over the
smoke and filth of human baseness there is a higher
and brighter mankind, which, judging from their
number, must be a small race (for everything that is
in any way distinguished is ipso facto rare). A man
does not belong to this race because he happens to
be more gifted, more virtuous, more heroic, or more
/] loving than the men below, but because he is
colder, brighter y more far-sighted, and more lonely ;
because he endures, prefers, and even insists upon,
loneliness as the joy, the privilege, yea, even the
, condition of existence ; because he lives amid
clouds and lightnings as among his equals, and
likewise among sunrays, dewdrops, snowflakes, and
all that which must needs come from the heights,
I and which in its course moves ever from heaven to
earth. The desire to look aloft is not our desire.
— Heroes, martyrs, geniuses, and enthusiasts of all

THE ORDER OF RANK. 385

kinds, are not quiet, patient, subtle, cold, or
slow enough for us.

994.

The absolute conviction that valuations above
and below are different ; that innumerable ex-
periences are wanting to the latter : that when
looking upwards from below misunderstandings
are necessary.

995-

How do men attain to great power and to great
tasks ? All the virtues and proficiences of the
body and the soul are little by little laboriously
acquired, through great industry, self-control, and
keeping one's self within narrow bounds, through a
frequent, energetic, and genuine repetition of the
same work and of the same hardships ; but there
are men who are the heirs and masters of this
slowly acquired and manifold treasure of virtues
and proficiences — because, owing to happy and
reasonable marriages and also to lucky accidents,
the acquired and accumulated forces of many
generations, instead of being squandered and
subdivided, have been assembled together by
means of steadfast struggling and willing. And
thus, in the end, a man appears who is such
a monster of strength, that he craves for a
monstrous task. For it is our power which has
command of us : and the wretched intellectual
play of aims and intentions and motivations lies
only in the foreground — however much weak eyes
may recognise the principal factors in these things,
vol. 11. 2B

/

V

V

/

386 THE WILL TO POWER.

996.

The sublime man has the highest value, even
when he is most delicate and fragile, because an
abundance of very difficult and rare things have
been reared through many generations and united
in him.

997.

I teach that there are higher and lower men,
and that a single individual may under certain cir-
cumstances justify whole millenniums of existence
— that is to say, a wealthier, more gifted, greater,
and more complete man, as compared with in-
numerable imperfect and fragmentary men.

998.

Away from rulers and rid of all bonds, live the
highest men : and in the rulers they have their
instruments.

999.

The order of rank : he who determines values and
leads the will of millenniums, and does this by
-, leading the highest natures — he is the highest
man.

1000.

I fancy I have divined some of the things that
lie hidden in the soul of the highest man ; perhaps
every man who has divined so much must go to
ruin : but he who has seen the highest man must
do all he can to make him possible,

^

THE ORDER OF RANK. 387

Fundamental thought : we must make the future
the standard of all our valuations — and not seek
the laws for our conduct behind us.

1 00 1.

Not " mankind," but Superman is the goal

1002.
" Come l'uom s'eterna. . . ." — Inf. xv. 85,

II.

DIONYSUS.

j/ 1003.

To him who is one of Nature's lucky strokes, to
him unto whom my heart goes out, to him who
is carved from one integral block, which is hard,
sweet, and fragrant — to him from whom even my
nose can derive some pleasure — let this book be
dedicated.

He enjoys that which is beneficial to him.

His pleasure in anything ceases when the limits
of what is beneficial to him are overstepped.

He divines the remedies for partial injuries ;
his illnesses are the great stimulants of his
existence.

He understands how to exploit his serious
\ accidents.

He grows stronger under the misfortunes which
\ threaten to annihilate him.

He instinctively gathers from all he sees, hears,
•and experiences, the materials for what concerns
jhim most, — he pursues a selective principle, — he
rejects a good deal.

He reacts with that tardiness which long caution

DIONYSUS. 389

and deliberate pride have bred in him, — he tests
the stimulus : whence does it come ? whither does
it lead ? He does not submit.

He is always in his own company, whether his
intercourse be with books, with men, or with
Nature.

He honours anything by choosing it, by
conceding to it, by trusting it.

1004.

We should attain to such a height, to such
a lofty eagle's ledge, in our observation, as to
be able to understand that everything happens,
just as it ought to happen : and that all " imperfec-
tion," and the pain it brings, belong to all that
which is most eminently desirable.

1005.

Towards 1876 I experienced a fright; for I
saw that everything I had most wished for up to
that time was being compromised. I realised this
when I perceived what Wagner was actually
driving at : and I was bound very fast to him —
by all the bonds of a profound similarity of needs,
by gratitude, by the thought that he could not be
replaced, and by the absolute void which I saw
facing me.

Just about this time I believed myself to be
inextricably entangled in my .philology and my
professorship — in the accident and last shift of my
life : I did not know how to get out of it, and
was tired, used up, and on my last legs.

39° THE WILL TO POWER.

J At about the same time I realised that what my
\\ instincts most desired to attain was precisely the
I reverse of what Schopenhauer's instincts wanted
j — that is to say, a justification of life, even where
J it was most terrible, most equivocal, and most
false : to this end, I had the formula " Dionysian "
in my hand.

Schopenhauer's interpretation of the " absolute "
as will was certainly a step towards that concept
of the " absolute " which supposed it to be
necessarily good, blessed, true, and integral ; but
Schopenhauer did not understand how to deify this
will : he remained suspended in the moral-
Christian ideal. Indeed, he was still so very
much under the dominion of Christian values,
that, once he could no longer regard the absolute
as God, he had to conceive it as evil, foolish,
utterly reprehensible. He did not realise that
there is an infinite number of ways of being
different, and even of being God.

1006. *

Hitherto, moral values have been the highest
values : does anybody doubt this ? ... If we
bring down the values from their pedestal, we
thereby alter all values : the principle of their order
of rank which has prevailed hitherto is thus over-
thrown.

1007.

Transvalue values — what does this mean ? It
implies that all spontaneous motives, all new,

DIONYSUS. 391

future, and stronger motives, are still extant ; but
that they now appear under false names and false
valuations, and have not yet become conscious of
themselves.

We ought to have the courage to become,
conscious, and to affirm all that which has been
attained — to get rid of the humdrum character of
old valuations, which makes us unworthy of the
best and strongest things that we have achieved.

1008.

Any doctrine would be superfluous for which
everything is not already prepared in the way of
accumulated forces and explosive material. A
transvaluation of values can only be accomplished
when there is a tension of new needs, and a new
set of needy people who feel all old values as
painful, — although they are not conscious of what
is wrong. %

1009.

The standpoint from which my values are
determined : is abundance or desire active ? . . .
Is one a mere spectator, or is one's own shoulder at
the wheel — is one looking away or is one turning
aside? ... Is one acting spontaneously, as the j
result of accumulated strength, or is one merely
reacting to a goad or to a stimulus ? ... Is one
simply acting as the result of a paucity of elements,
or of such an overwhelming dominion over a host
of elements that this power enlists the latter into
its service if it requires them ? ... Is one a

l^

392 THE WILL TO POWER.

problem one's self or is one a solution already ? . . .

Is one perfect through the smallness of the task, or

•• imperfect owing to the extraordinary character of

■• the aim ? ... Is one genuine or only an actor ; is

one genuine as an actor, or only the bad copy of

an actor ? is one a representative or the creature

represented ? Is one a personality or merely a

rendezvous of personalities ? ... Is one ill from a

disease or from surplus health ? Does one lead as

a shepherd, or as an " exception " (third alternative :

as a fugitive) ? Is one in need of dignity, or can

one play the clown ? Is one in search of resistance,

or is one evading it ? Is one imperfect owing to

one's precocity or to one's tardiness ? Is it one's

nature to say yea, or no, or is one a peacock's tail

of garish parts ? Is one proud enough not to feel

ashamed even of one's vanity ? Is one still able to

feel a bite of conscience (this species is becoming

rare ; formerly conscience had to bite too often : it

is as if it now no longer had enough teeth to do

f so) ? Is one still capable of a " duty " ? (there

! are some people who would lose the whole joy of

| their lives if they were deprived of their duty — this

1 holds good especially of feminine creatures, who

are born subjects).

io 10.

Supposing our common comprehension of the
universe were a misunderstandings would it be
possible to conceive of a form of perfection , within
the limits of which even such a misunderstanding
as this could be sanctioned ?

The concept of a new form of perfection : that

DIONYSUS. 393

which does not correspond to our logic, to our
u beauty," to our " good," to our " truth," might be
perfect in a higher sense even than our ideal is.

IOI I.

Our most important limitation : we must not
deify the unknown ; we are just beginning to know
so little. The false and wasted endeavours.

Our " new world " : we must ascertain to what
extent we are the creators of our valuations — we
will thus be able to put " sense " into history.

This belief in truth is reaching its final logical
conclusion in us — ye know how it reads : that if
there is anything at all that must be worshipped
it is appearance ; that falsehood and not truth is —
divine.

IOI2.

He who urges rational thought forward, thereby
also drives its antagonistic power — mysticism and
foolery of every kind — to new feats of strength.

We should recognise that every movement is
(i) partly the manifestation of fatigue resulting from
a previous movement (satiety after it, the malice of
weakness towards it, and disease) ; and (2) partly a
newly awakened accumulation of long slumbering
forces, and therefore wanton, violent, healthy.

1013.

Health and morbidness : let us be careful ! The
standard is the bloom of the body, the agility,
courage, and cheerfulness of the mind — but also, of

*s

/

394 THE WILL TO POWER.

course, how much morbidness a man can bear and
overcome, — and convert into health. That which
would send more delicate natures to the dogs,
belongs to the stimulating means of great health.

1014.

It is only a question of power : to have all the
i morbid traits of the century, but to balance them
[by means of overflowing, plastic, and rejuvenating
I power. The strong man.

1015.

Concerning the strength of the nineteenth century. —
We are more mediaeval than the eighteenth century ;
not only more inquisitive or more susceptible to the
strange and to the rare. We have revolted against
the Revolution. . . . We have freed ourselves from
the fear of reason, which was the spectre of the
eighteenth century: we once more dare to be
childish, lyrical, absurd, — in a word, "we are
musicians." And we are just as little frightened
of the ridiculous as of the absurd. The devil finds
that he is tolerated even by God : * better still, he
has become interesting as one who has been mis-
understood and slandered for ages, — -we are the
^saviours of the devil's honour.
~ We no longer separate tnegreat from the terrible.
We reconcile good things, in all their complexity,

* This is reminiscent of Goethe's Faust. See " Prologue in
Heaven."— Tr.

DIONYSUS. 395

with the very worst things ; we have overcome the
desideratum of the pas^ (which wanted goodness to
grow without the increase of evil). The cowardice \
towards the ideal, peculiar to the Renaissance, has!
diminished — we even dare to aspire to the latter's-
morality. Intolerance towards priests and the
Church has at the same time come to an end ; " It
is immoral to believe in God " — but this is pre-
cisely what we regard as the best possible justifica-
tion of this belief.

On all these things we have conferred the civic
rights of our minds. We do not tremble before
the back side of " good things " (we even look
for it, we are brave and inquisitive enough for that),
of Greek antiquity, of morality, of reason, of good
taste, for instance (we reckon up the losses which
we incur with all this treasure : we almost reduce
ourselves to poverty with such a treasure)..
Neither do we conceal the back side of " evil things"
from ourselves.

1016.

That which does us honour. — If anything does us
honour, it is this : we have transferred our serious-
ness to other things ; all those things which have
been despised and laid aside as base by all ages,
we regard as important — on the other hand, we
surrender " fine feelings " at a cheap rate.

Could any aberration be more dangerous than the
contempt of the body? As if all intellectuality
were not thereby condemned to become morbid,
and to take refuge in the vapeurs of " idealism " !

Nothing that has been thought out by Christians

396 THE WILL TO POWER.

and idealists holds water : we are more radical.
We have discovered the " smallest world " every-
where as the most decisive.

The paving-stones in the streets, good air in our
rooms, food understood according to its worth : we
value all the necessaries of life seriously, and despise
all " beautiful soulfulness " as a form of " levity and
frivolity." That which has been most despised
hitherto, is now pressed into the front rank.

IO17

In the place of Rousseau's " man of Nature," the
nineteenth century has discovered a much more
genuine image of " Man," — it had the courage to
do this. . . . On the whole, the Christian concept
of man has in a way been reinstalled. What we
have not had the courage to do, was to call precisely
this " man par excellence" good, and to see the
future of mankind guaranteed in him. In the
same way, we did not dare to regard the growth
in the terrible side of man's character as an ac-
companying feature of every advance in culture ;
in this sense we are still under the influence of the
Christian ideal, and side with it against paganism,
and likewise against the Renaissance concept of
virtu. But the key of culture is not to be
found in this way : and in praxi we still have
the forgeries of history in favour of the " good
man " (as if he alone constituted the progress
of humanity) and the socialistic ideal (i.e. the
residue of Christianity and of Rousseau in the de-
Christianised world).

DIONYSUS. 397

The fight against the eighteenth century : it meets
with its greatest conquerors in Goethe and Napoleon.
Schopenhauer, too, rights against the eighteentl
century ; but he returns involuntarily to the;
seventeenth — he is a modern Pascal, with Pascalianj
valuations, without Christianity. Schopenhauer wai
not strong enough to invent a new yea.

Napoleon : we see the necessary relationship
between the higher and the terrible man. " Man "
reinstalled, and her due of contempt and fear re-
stored to woman. Highest activity and health are
the signs of the great man ; the straight line and
grand style rediscovered in action ; the mightiest
of all instincts, that of life itself, — the lust of
dominion, — heartily welcomed

1018.

(Revue des deux mondes, 15th February 1887.
Taine concerning Napoleon) " Suddenly the
master faculty reveals itself: the artist, which was
latent in the politician, comes forth from his
scabbard ; he creates dans IHdial et l* impossible. He
is once more recognised as that which he is : the
posthumous brother of Dante and of Michelangelo;
and verily, in view of the definite contours of his
vision, the intensity, the coherence, and inner con-
sistency of his dream, the depth of his meditations,
the superhuman greatness of his conception, he is
their equal : son gtnie a la mime taille et la mime
structure ; il est un des trois esprits souverains de
la renaissance italienne."

Nota bene. — Dante, Michelangelo, Napoleon.

398 THE WILL TO POWER.

1 01 9.

V Concerning the pessimism of strength. — In the

internal economy of the primitive man's soul, the
fear of evil preponderates. What is evil} Three
kinds of things : accident, uncertainty, the unex-
pected. How does primitive man combat evil ? —
He conceives it as a thing of reason, of power, even
as a person. By this means he is enabled to make
treaties with it, and generally to operate upon it in
advance — to forestall it.

— Another expedient is to declare its evil and
harmful character to be but apparent : the conse-
quences of accidental occurrences, and of uncer-
tainty and the unexpected, are interpreted as well-
meant, as reasonable.

— A third means is to interpret evil, above all,
as merited : evil is thus justified as a punishment.

— In short, man submits to it: all religious
and moral interpretations are but forms of sub-
mission to evil. — The belief that a good purpose
lies behind all evil, implies the renunciation of any
desire to combat it.

Now, the history of every culture shows a
diminution of this fear of the accidental, of the
uncertain, and of the unexpected. Culture means
precisely, to learn to reckon, to discover causes, to
acquire the power of forestalling events, to acquire a
belief in necessity. With the growth of culture,
man is able to dispense with that primitive form of
submission to evil (called religion or morality), and
that "justification of evil." Now he wages war
against " evil," — he gets rid of it. Yes, a state of

DIONYSUS. 399

security, of belief in law and the possibility of cal-
culation, is possible, in which consciousness regards
these things with tedium, — in which the joy of the
accidental, of the uncertain, and of the unexpected,
actually becomes a spur.

Let us halt a moment before this symptom of
highest culture, — I call it the pessimism of strength.
Man now no longer requires a "justification of
evil " ; justification is precisely what he abhors :
he enjoys evil, pur, cm ; he regards purposeless
evil as the most interesting kind of evil. If he
had required a God in the past, he now delights in
cosmic disorder without a God, a world of accident,
to the essence of which terror, ambiguity, and
seductiveness belong.

In a state of this sort, it is precisely goodness
which requires to be justified — that is to say, it
must either have an evil and a dangerous basis, or
else it must contain a vast amount of stupidity :
in which case it still pleases. Animality no longer
awakens terror now ; a very intellectual and happy
wanton spirit in favour of the animal in man, is, in
such periods, the most triumphant form of spirit-
uality. Matn-4«~-4iow-strong enough to be able to
feel ashamed of a belief in God-, he may now
play the part of the devil's advocate afresh. If in
practice he pretends to uphold virtue, it will be for
those reasons which lead virtue to be associated
with subtlety, cunning, lust of gain, and a form of
the lust of power.

This pessimism of strength also ends in a theo-
dicy, i.e. in an absolute saying of yea to the world
— but the same arguments will be raised in favour of

400 THE WILL TO POWER.

life which formerly were raised against it : and in
this way, in a conception of this world as the highest
ideal possible, which has been effectively attained.

i

x

1020.

The principal kinds of pessimism : —

The pessimism of sensitiveness (excessive irrit-
ability with a preponderance of the feelings of pain).

The pessimism of the will that is not free (other-
wise expressed : the lack of resisting power a-
gainst stimuli).

The pessimism of doubt (shyness in regard to
everything fixed, in regard to all grasping and
touching).

The psychological conditions which belong to
these different kinds of pessimism, may all be ob-
served in a lunatic asylum, even though they are
there found in a slightly exaggerated form. The
same applies to " Nihilism " (the penetrating feeling
of " nonentity ").

What, however, is the nature of Pascal's moral
pessimism, and the metaphysical pessimism of the
Vedanta-Philosophy ? What is the nature of the
social pessimism of anarchists (as of Shelley), and of
the pessimism of compassion (like that of Leo
Tolstoy and of Alfred de Vigny) ?

Are all these things not also the phenomena of
decay and sickness? . . . And is not excessive
seriousness in regard to moral values, or in regard
to " other-world " fictions, or social calamities, or
suffering in general, of the same order ? All such
exaggeration of a single and narrow standpoint is

DIONYSUS. 401

in itself a sign of sickness. The same applies to
the preponderance of a negative over an affirma-
tive attitude !

In this respect we must not confound with the
above : the joy of saying and doing no, which is
the result of the enormous power and tenseness of
an affirmative attitude — peculiar to all rich and
mighty men and ages. It is, as it were, a luxury,
a form of courage too, which opposes the terrible,
which has sympathy with the frightful and the
questionable ; because, among other things, one is
terrible and questionable: the Dionysian in will,
intellect, and taste.

1021.

My Five "Noes" >

(1) My fight against the feeling of sin and the
introduction of the notion of punishment into the
physical and metaphysical world, likewise into ■
psychology and the interpretation of history. The I
recognition of the fact that all philosophies and val-
uations hitherto have been saturated with morality.

(2) My identification and my discovery of the
traditional ideal, of the Christian ideal, even
where the dogmatic form of Christianity has been
wrecked. The danger of tJie Christian ideal resides
in its valuations, in that which can dispense with
concrete expression : my struggle against latent
Christianity (for instance, in music, in Socialism).

(3) My struggle against the eighteenth century
of Rousseau, against his" Nature," against his "good

VOL. 11. 2C

/

402 THE WILL TO POWER.

man," his belief in the dominion of feeling — against
the pampering, weakening, and moralising of man :
an ideal born of the hatred of aristocratic culture,
which in practice is the dominion of unbridled
feelings of resentment, and invented as a standard
for the purpose of war (the Christian morality of
the feeling of sin, as well as the morality of resent-
ment, is an attitude of the mob).

(4) My fight against Romanticism, in which the
ideals of Christianity and of Rousseau converge,
but which possesses at the same time a yearning
for that antiquity which knew of sacerdotal and
aristocratic culture, a yearning for virtu, and for
the " strong man " — something extremely hybrid ;
a false and imitated kind of stronger humanity,
which appreciates extreme conditions in general
and sees the symptom of strength in them (" the
cult of passion"; an imitation of the most expressive
forms, furore espressivo, originating not out of pleni-
tude, but out of want). — (In the nineteenth century
there are some things which are born out of re-
lative plenitude — i.e. out of well-being', cheerful
music, etc. — among poets, for instance, Stifter and
Gottfried Keller give signs of more strength and
inner well-being than . The great strides of en-
gineering, of inventions, of the natural sciences and
of history (?) are relative products of the strength
and self-reliance of the nineteenth century.)

(5) My struggle against the predominance of
gregarious instincts, now science makes common
cause with them ; against the profound hate with
which every kind of order of rank and of aloofness

v is treated.

DIONYSUS. 403

I022.

From the pressure of plenitude, from the tension
of forces that are continually increasing within us
and which cannot yet discharge themselves, a con-
dition is produced which is very similar to that
which precedes a storm : we — like Nature's sky —
become overcast. That, too, is " pessimism." . .
A teaching which puts an end to such a condition
by the fact that it commands something : a trans-
valuation of values by means of which the accumu-
lated forces are given a channel, a direction, so
that they explode into deeds and flashes of light-
ning — does not in the least require to be a
hedonistic teaching : in so far as it releases strength
which was compressed to an agonising degree, it
brings happiness.

1023.

Pleasure appears with the feeling of power.

Happiness means that the consciousness of
power and triumph has begun to prevail.

Progress is the strengthening of the type, the
ability to exercise great will-power: everything
else is a misunderstanding and a danger.

1024.

There comes a time when the old masquerade
and moral togging-up of the passions provokes
repugnance : naked Nature ; when the quanta of
power are recognised as decidedly simple (as deter-
mining rank) ; when grand style appears again as
the result of great passion.

<|.04 THE WILL TO POWER.

1025,

V The purpose of culture would have us enlist every-
thing terrible, step by step and experimentally, into
its service ; but before it is strong enough for this it
must combat, moderate, mask, and even curse every-
thing terrible.

Wherever a culture points to anything as evil, it
betrays its fear and therefore weakness.

Thesis : everything good is the evil of yore
which has been rendered serviceable. Standard :
the more terrible and the greater the passions may
be which an age, a people, and an individual are at
liberty to possess, because they are able to use
them as a meansy the higher is their culture-, the
more mediocre, weak, submissive, and cowardly a
man may be, the more things he will regard as evil:
according to him the kingdom of evil is the largest.
The lowest man will see the kingdom of evil {i.e.
that which is forbidden him and which is hostile
to him) everywhere.

1026.

► / It is not a fact that "happiness follows virtue"
* — but it is the mighty man who first declares his

happy state to be virtue,
f Evil actions belong to the mighty and the
\ virtuous : bad and base actions belong to the
\ subjected.

The mightiest man, the creator, would have to
be the most evil, inasmuch as he makes his ideal
prevail over all men in opposition to their ideals,
and remoulds them according to his own image.

DIONYSUS. 405

Evil, in this respect, means hard, painfuV-en-
forced.

Such men as Napoleon must always return and
always settle our belief in the self-glory of the in-
dividual afresh : he himself, however, was corrupted
by the means he had to stoop to, and had lost
noblesse of character. If he had had to prevail
among another kind of men, he could have availed
himself of other means ; and thus it would not
seem necessary that a Caesar must become bad.

1027

Man is a combination of the btast and the super-
beast \ higher man a combination of the monster <
and the superman : * these opposites belong t(
each other. With every degree of a man's growtl
towards greatness and loftiness, he also grows down-
wards into the depths and into the terrible : w<
should not desire the one without the other ; — or,]
better still : the more fundamentally we desire the]
one, the more completely we shall achieve the
other.

1028.

Terribleness belongs to greatness: let us not
deceive ourselves.

1029.

I have taught the knowledge of such terrible
things, that all " Epicurean contentment " is im-

* The play on the German words : " Unthier ■ and
" Uberthier," " Unmensch ■ and " Dbermensch," is unfortu-
nately not translatable.— Tr.

406 THE WILL TO POWER.

possible concerning them. Dionysian pleasure is
the only adequate kind here : / was the first to dis-
cover the tragic. Thanks to their superficiality in
ethics, the Greeks misunderstood it. Resignation
is not the lesson of tragedy, but only the mis-
understanding of it ! The yearning for nonentity
is the denial of tragic wisdom, its opposite !

1030.

Y A rich and powerful soul not only gets over
painful and even terrible losses, deprivations, rob-
beries, and insults : it actually leaves such dark
infernos in possession of still greater plenitude and
power ; and, what is most important of all, in pos-
session of an increased blissfulness in love. I
believe that he who has divined something of the
most fundamental conditions of love, will under-
stand Dante for having written over the door of
his Inferno : " I also am the creation of eternal
love."

1031.

1

To have travelled over the whole circumference
of the modern soul, and to have sat in all its corners
— my ambition, my torment, and my happiness.

Veritably to have overcome pessimism, and, as
the result thereof, to have acquired the eyes of a
Goethe — full of love and goodwill.

1032.

The first question is by no means whether we
are satisfied with ourselves : but whether we are

DIONYSUS. 407

satisfied with anything at all. Granting that we
should say yea to any single moment, we have then
affirmed not only ourselves, but the whole of ex-
istence. For nothing stands by itself, either in u<
or in other things : and if our soul has vibrated an<
rung with happiness, like a chord, once only am
only once, then all eternity was necessary in order]
to bring about that one event, — and all eternity, in'
this single moment of our affirmation, was called
good, was saved, justified, and blessed.

1033-

The passions which say yea. — Pride, happiness,
health, the love of the sexes, hostility and war,
reverence, beautiful attitudes, manners, strong will,
the discipline of lofty spirituality, the will to power,
and gratitude to the Earth and to Life : all that
is rich, that would fain bestow, and that refreshes,
gilds, immortalises, and deifies Life — the whole
power of the virtues that glorify — all declaring
things good, saying yea, and doing yea.

1034.

We, many or few, who once more dare to live in
a world purged of morality \ we pagans in faith, — we
are probably also the first who understand what a
pagan faith is : to be obliged to imagine higher
creatures than man, but to imagine them beyond
good and evil ; to be compelled to value all higher
existence as immoral existence. We believe in
Olympus, and not in the " man on the cross."

408 THE WILL TO POWER.

1035.

The more modern man has exercised his ideal-
ising power in regard to a God mostly by moralis-
ing the latter ever more and more — what does that
mean ? — nothing good, a diminution in man's
strength.

As a matter of fact, the reverse would be possible:
and indications of this are not wanting. God im-
agined as emancipation from morality, comprising
the whole of the abundant assembly of Life's con-
trasts, and saving and justifying them in a divine
agony. God as the beyond, the superior elevation,
to the wretched cul-de-sac morality of " Good and
Evil."

1036.

A humanitarian God cannot be demonstrated
from the world that is known to us : so much are
ye driven and forced to conclude to-day. But
what conclusion do ye draw from this ? " He can-
not be demonstrated to us" : the scepticism of
knowledge. You all fear the conclusion : " From
the world that is known to us quite a different
God would be demonstrable, such a one as would
certainly not be humanitarian " — and, in a word,
you cling fast to your God, and invent a world for
Him which is unknown to us.

1

1037.

Let us banish the highest good from our con-
cept of God : it is unworthy of a God. Let us

DIONYSUS. 409

likewise banish the highest wisdom : it is the
vanity of philosophers who have perpetrated the.
absurdity of a God who is a monster of wisdom : • I
the idea was to make Him as like them as possible. \
No ! God as the highest power — that is sufficient ! 1
— Everything follows from that, even — " the
world " !

1038

And how many new Gods are not still pos-
sible ! I, myself, in whom the religious — that is
to say, the god-creating- instinct occasionally be-
comes active at the most inappropriate moments :
how very differently the divine has revealed itself
every time to me ! ... So many strange things
have passed before me in those timeless moments,
which fall into a man's life as if they came from
the moon, and in which he absolutely no longer
knows how old he is or how young he still may
be ! ... I would not doubt that there are several
kinds of gods. . . . Some are not wanting which
one could not possibly imagine without a certain
halcyonic calm and levity. . . . Light feet perhaps
belong to the concept " God." Is it necessary to
explain that a God knows how to hold Himself
preferably outside all Philistine and rationalist
circles ? also (between ourselves) beyond good and
evil? His outlook is a free one — as Goethe
would say. — And to invoke the authority of Zara-
thustra, which cannot be too highly appreciated in
this regard : Zarathustra goes as far as to confess,
" I would only believe in a God who knew how to
dance. . ."

410 THE WILL TO POWER.

Again I say : how many new Gods are not still
possible! Certainly Zarathustrahimself is merely an
old atheist: he believes neither in old nor in newgods.
Zarathustra says, " he would " — but Zarathustra
will not. . . . Take care to understand him well.

The type God conceived according to the type
of creative spirits, of " great men."

1039.

And how many new ideals are not, at bottom,
still possible ? Here is a little ideal that I seize
upon every five weeks, while upon a wild and lonely
walk, in the azure moment of a blasphemous joy.
To spend one's life amid delicate and absurd things ;
a stranger to reality ; half-artist, half-bird, half-
metaphysician ; without a yea or a nay for reality,
save that from time to time one acknowledges it,
after the manner of a good dancer, with the tips of
one's toes ; always tickled by some happy ray of
sunlight ; relieved and encouraged even by sorrow
— for sorrow preserves the happy man ; fixing a
little tail of jokes even to the most holy thing :
this, as is clear, is the ideal of a heavy spirit, a ton
in weight — of the spirit of gravity.

1040.

\f From the military -school of the soul. (Dedicated
to the brave, the good-humoured, and the abstinent.)
I should not like to undervalue the amiable vir-
tues ; but greatness of soul is not compatible with

DIONYSUS. 411

them. Even in the arts, grand style excludes all
merely pleasing qualities.

In times of painful tension and vulnerability,
choose war. War hardens and develops muscle.

*

Those who have been deeply wounded have the
Olympian laughter ; a man only has what he needs.

*

It has now already lasted ten years : no sound
any longer reaches me — a land without rain. A
man must have a vast amount of humanity at his
disposal in order not to pine away in such drought*

1041.

My new road to an affirmative attitude. — Philo-
sophy, as I have understood it and lived it up to the
present, is the voluntary quest of the repulsive and
atrocious aspects of existence. From the long ex-
perience derived from such wandering over ice and
desert, I learnt to regard quite differently everything
that had been philosophised hitherto: the con-
cealed history of philosophy, the psychology of its
great names came into the light for me. " How
much truth can a spirit endure ; for how much truth
is it daring enough ? " — this for me was the real

* For the benefit of those readers who are not acquainted
with the circumstances of Nietzsche's life, it would be as well
to point out that this is a purely personal plaint, comprehen-
sible enough in the mouth of one who, like Nietzsche, was
for years a lonely anchorite. — Tr.

412 THE WILL TO POWER.

measure of value. Error is a piece of cowardice
. . . every victory on the part of knowledge, is the re-
j-^Z/of courage, of hardness towards one's self, of clean-
liness towards one's self. . . . Thzkmdol experimental
philosophy which I am living, even anticipates the
possibility of the most fundamental Nihilism, on
principle : but by this I do not mean that it re-
mains standing at a negation, at a no, or at a will
to negation. It would rather attain to the very
reverse — to a Dionysian affirmation of the world, as
it is, without subtraction, exception, or choice —
it would have eternal circular motion : the same
things, the same reasoning, and the same illogical
concatenation. The highest state to which a philo-
sopher can attain : to maintain a Dionysian attitude
v^ \ to Life — my formula for this is amor fati.

To this end we must not only consider those
aspects of life which have been denied hitherto, as
necessary, but as desirable, and not only desirable
to those aspects which have been affirmed hitherto
(as complements or first prerequisites, so to speak),
but for their own sake, as the more powerful, more
terrible, and more veritable aspects of life, in which
the latter's will expresses itself most clearly.

To this end, we must also value that aspect of
existence which alone has been affirmed until now ;
we must understand whence this valuation arises,
and to how slight an extent it has to do with a
Dionysian valuation of Life : I selected and under-
stood that which in this respect says " yea " (on the
one hand, the instinct of the sufferer ; on the other,
the gregarious instinct ; and thirdly, the instinct of
the greater number against the exceptions).

DIONYSUS. 413

Thus I divined to what extent a stronger kind
of man must necessarily imagine — the elevation and
enhancement of man in another direction : higher
creatures, beyond good and evil, beyond those values
which bear the stamp of their origin in the sphere
of suffering, of the herd, and of the greater number
— I searched for the data of this topsy-turvy forma-
tion of ideals in history (the concepts " pagan,"
" classical," " noble," have been discovered afresh
and brought forward).

1042.

We should demonstrate to what extent the
religion of the Greeks was higher than Judaeo-
Christianity. The latter triumphed because the
Greek religion was degenerate (and decadent).

1043.

It is not surprising that a couple 01 centuries
have been necessary in order to link up again — a
couple of centuries are very little indeed.

1044.

There must be some people who sanctify func-
tions, not only eating and drinking : and not only
in memory of them, or in harmony with them ; but
this world must be for ever glorified anew, and in
a novel fashion.

1045.

The most intellectual men feel the ecstasy and
charm of sensual things in a way which other men

414 THE WILL TO TOWER.

— those with " fleshy hearts " — cannot possibly
imagine, and ought not to be able to imagine :
they are sensualists with the best possible faith,
because they grant the senses a more fundamental
value than "that fine sieve, that thinning and mincing
machine, or whatever it is called, which in the
language of the people is termed "spirit." The
J strength and power of the senses — this is the most
essential thing in a sound man who is one of
Nature's lucky strokes : the splendid beast must
first be there — otherwise what is the value of all
" humanisation " ?

1046.

(1) We want to hold fast to our senses, and to
the belief in them — and accept their logical con-
clusions ! The hostility to the senses in the philo-
sophy that has been written up to the present, has
been man's greatest feat of nonsense.

(2) The world now extant, on which all earthly
and living things have so built themselves, that it
now appears as it does (enduring and proceeding
slowly), we would fain continue building — not
criticise it away as false !

(3) Our valuations help in the process of build-
ing ; they emphasise and accentuate. What does
it mean when whole religions say : " Everything is
bad and false and evil " ? This condemnation of
the whole process can only be the judgment of the
failures !

(4) True, the failures might be the greatest
sufferers and therefore the most subtle ! The con-
tented might be worth little !

DIONYSUS. 415

(5) We must understand the fundamental artistic
phenomenon which is called "Life," — the formative
spirit, which constructs under the most unfavourable
circumstances : and in the slowest manner pos-
sible The proof of all its combinations must

first be given afresh : it maintains itself.

1047-

Sexuality, lust of dominion, the pleasure derived
from appearance and deception, great and joyful
gratitude to Life and its typical conditions — these
things are essential to all paganism, and it has a
good conscience on its side. — That which is hostile
to Nature (already in Greek antiquity) combats
paganism in the form of morality and dialectics.

1048.

An anti- metaphysical view of the world — yes,
but an artistic one.

1049.

Apollo's misapprehension : the eternity of beauti-J
ful forms, the aristocratic prescription, " Thus shall
it ever be ! "

Dionysus : Sensuality and cruelty. The perish-
able nature of existence might be interpreted as
the joy of procreative and destructive force, as un-
remitting- creation.

1050.

The word " Dionysian " expresses : a constraint
to unity, a soaring above personality, the common-

416 THE WILL TO POWER.

place, society, reality, and above the abyss of the
ephemeral '; the passionately painful sensation of
superabundance, in darker, fuller, and more fluctu-
ating conditions ; an ecstatic saying of yea to the
collective character of existence, as that which
remains the same, and equally mighty and blissful
throughout all change; the great pantheistic
sympathy with pleasure and pain, which declares
even the most terrible and most questionable qualities
of existence good, and sanctifies them ; the eternal
will to procreation, to fruitfulness, and to recurrence ;
the feeling of unity in regard to the necessity of
creating and annihilating.

The word " Apollonian " expresses : the con-
straint to be absolutely isolated, to the typical " in-
dividual," to everything that simplifies, distinguishes,
and makes strong, salient, definite, and typical : to
freedom within the law.

The further development of art is just as neces-
sarily bound up with the antagonism of these two
natural art-forces, as the further development of
mankind is bound up with the antagonism of the
sexes. The plenitude of power and restraint, the
highest form of self-affirmation in a cool, noble, and
reserved kind of beauty : the Apollonianism of the
Hellenic will.

This antagonism of the Dionysian and of the
Apollonian in the Greek soul, is one of the great
riddles which made me feel drawn to the essence
of Hellenism. At bottom, I troubled about nothing
save the solution of the question, why precisely
Greek Apollonianism should have been forced to
grow out of a Dionysian soil : the Dionysian Greek

DIONYSUS.

417

had need of being Apollonian ; that is to say,in
order to break his will to the titanic, to the com-
plex, to the uncertain, to the horrible by a will
to measure, to simplicity, and to submission to
rule and concept. Extravagance, wildness, and
Asiatic tendencies lie at the root of the Greeks.
Their courage consists in their struggle with their
Asiatic nature: they were not given beauty, any
more than they were given Logic and moral'
naturalness : in them these things are victories,
they are willed and fought for—they constitute
the triumph of the Greeks.

1051

It is clear that only the rarest and most lucky
cases of humanity can attain to the highest and
most sublime human joys in which Life celebrates
its own glorification ; and this only happens when
these rare creatures themselves and their forbears
have lived a long preparatory life leading to this
goal, without, however, having done so consciously.
It is then that an overflowing wealth of multi-
farious forces and the most agile power of " free
will " and lordly command exist together in per-
fect concord in one man ; then the intellect is just
as much at ease, or at home, in the senses as the
senses are at ease or at home in it ; and everything
that takes place in the latter must give rise to ex-
traordinarily subtle joys in the former. And vice
versd : just think of this vice versd for a moment
in a man like Hafiz ; even Goethe, though to a
lesser degree, gives some idea of this process. It
vol. 11. aD

41 8 THE WILL TO POWER.

is probable that, in such perfect and well-constituted
men, the most sensual functions are finally trans-
figured by a symbolic elatedness of the highest
intellectuality ; in themselves they feel a kind of
deification of the body and are most remote from the
ascetic philosophy of the principle "God is a Spirit":
from this principle it is clear that the ascetic is the
" botched man M who declares only that to be good
and " God " which is absolute, and which judges and
condemns.

From that height of joy in which man feels him-
self completely and utterly a deified form and self-
justification of nature, down to the joy of healthy
peasants and healthy semi-human beasts, the whole
of this long and enormous gradation of the light
and colour of happiness was called by the Greek —
not without that grateful quivering of one who is
initiated into secret, not without much caution and
pious silence — by the godlike name : Dionysus.
What then do all modern men — the children of a
crumbling, multifarious, sick and strange age —
know of the compass of Greek happiness, how could
they know anything about it ! Whence would the
slaves of " modern ideas " derive their right to
Dionysian feasts !

When the Greek body and soul were in full
" bloom," and not, as it were, in states of morbid
exaltation and madness, there arose the secret
symbol of the loftiest affirmation and transfigura-
tion of life and the world that has ever existed.
There we have a standard beside which everything
that has grown since must seem too short, too
poor, too narrow : if we but pronounce the word

DIONYSUS. 419

" Dionysus " in the presence of the best of more
recent names and things, in the presence of Goethe,
for instance, or Beethoven, or Shakespeare, or
Raphael, in a trice we realise that our best things
and moments are condemned. Dionysus is a judge !
Am I understood ? There can be no doubt that
the Greeks sought to interpret, by means of their
Dionysian experiences, the final mysteries of the
" destiny of the soul " and everything they knew
concerning the education and the purification of
man, and above all concerning the absolute hier-
archy and inequality of value between man and man.
There is the deepest experience of all Greeks, which
they conceal beneath great silence, — we do not
know the Greeks so long as this hidden and sub-
terranean access to them remains obstructed. The
indiscreet eyes of scholars will never perceive any-
thing in these things, however much learned energy
may still have to be expended in the service of this
excavation — ; even the noble zeal of such friends
of antiquity as Goethe and Winckelmann, seems to
savour somewhat of bad form and of arrogance,
precisely in this respect. To wait and to prepare
oneself; to await the appearance of new sources of
knowledge ; to prepare oneself in solitude for the
sight of new faces and the sound of new voices ; to
cleanse one's soul ever more and more of the dust
and noise, as of a country fair, which is peculiar to
this age ; to overcome everything Christian by some-
thing super-Christian, and not only to rid oneself
of it, — for the Christian doctrine is the counter-
doctrine to the Dionysian ; to rediscover the South
in oneself, and to stretch a clear, glittering, and

420 THE WILL TO POWER.

mysterious southern sky above one ; to reconquer
the southern healthiness and concealed power of the
soul, once more for oneself; to increase the com-
pass of one's soul step by step, and to become more
supernational, more European, more super-
European, more Oriental, and finally more Hellenic
— for Hellenism was, as a matter of fact, the first
great union and synthesis of everything Oriental,
and precisely on that account, the beginning of the
European soul, the discovery of our " new world " :
— he who lives under such imperatives, who knows
what he may not encounter some day ? Possibly
— a new dawn !

1052.

The two types : Dionysus and Christ on the Cross.
We should ascertain whether the typically religious
man is a decadent phenomenon (the great inno-
vators are one and all morbid and epileptic) ; but
do not let us forget to include that type of the
religious man who is pagan. Is the pagan cult
not a form of gratitude for, and affirmation of, Life ?
Ought not its most representative type to be an
apology and deification of Life ? The type of a
well-constituted and ecstatically overflowing spirit !
The type of a spirit which absorbs the contradic-
tions and problems of existence, and which solves
them !

At this point I set up the Dionysus of the Greeks :
the religious affirmation of Life, of the whole of
Life, not of denied and partial Life (it is typical
that in this cult the sexual act awakens ideas of
depth, mystery, and reverence).

DIONYSUS. 421

[ Dionysus versus " Christ " ; here you have the
contrast. It is not a difference in regard to the
martyrdom, — but the latter has a different mean-
ing. Life itself — Life's eternal fruitfulness and re- '
currence caused anguish, destruction, and the will/
to annihilation. In the other case, the suffering of ;
the " Christ as the Innocent One " stands as an ob-
jection against Life, it is the formula of Life's
condemnation. — Readers will guess that the prob-
lem concerns the meaning of suffering; whether
a Christian or a tragic meaning be given to it. In f
the first case it is the road to a holy mode of
existence ; in the second case existence itself
is regarded as sufficiently holy to justify an I
enormous amount of suffering. The tragic man ,
says yea even to the most excruciating suffering :
he is sufficiently strong, rich, and capable of deify-
ing, to be able to do this ; the Christian denies
even the happy lots on earth : he is weak, poor,
and disinherited enough to suffer from life in any
form. God on the Cross is a curse upon Life, a
signpost directing people to deliver themselves from
it ; — Dionysus cut into pieces is a. promise of Life :
it will be for ever born anew$ and rise afresh from
destruction.

III.

ETERNAL RECURRENCE.

1053.

My philosophy reveals the triumphant thought
through which all other systems of thought must
ultimately perish. It is the great disciplinary
thought: those races that cannot bear it are
doomed ; those which regard it as the greatest
blessing are destined to rule.

1054-

The greatest of all fights : for this purpose a
new weapon is required.

A hammer: a terrible alternative must be
created. Europe must be brought face to face
with the logic of facts, and confronted with the
question whether its will for ruin is really earnest.

General levelling down to mediocrity must be
avoided. Rather than this it would be preferable
to perish.

1055.

A pessimistic attitude of mind and a pessi-
mistic doctrine and ecstatic Nihilism, may in

ETERNAL RECURRENCE. 423

certain circumstances even prove indispensable to^
the philosopher — that is to say, as a mighty
form of pressure, or hammer, with which he can
smash up degenerate, perishing races and put
them out of existence ; with which he can beat a
track to a new order of life, or instil a longing for
nonentity in those who are degenerate and who.
desire to perish.

1056.

I wish to teach the thought which gives unto \^
many the right to cancel their existences — the J>
great disciplinary thought.

1057.

Eternal Recurrence. A prophecy.

1. The exposition of the doctrine and its theo-
retical first principles and results.

2. The proof of the doctrine.

3. Probable results which will follow from its
being believed. (It makes everything break open.)

(a) The means of enduring it.

(b) The means of ignoring it.

4. Its place in history is a means.
The period ot greatest danger.

The foundation of an oligarchy above peoples
and their interests : education directed at
establishing a political policy for humanity
in general.

A counterpart of Jesuitism.

424

THE WILL TO POWER.

>/.'

3

/

n*

v*

1058.

The two greatest philosophical points of view
(both discovered by Germans).

(a) That of becoming and that of evolution,

(b) That based upon the values of existence

(but the wretched form of German

pessimism must first be overcome !) —

Both points of view reconciled by me in a

decisive manner.
Everything becomes and returns for ever,
— escape is impossible !
Granted that we could appraise the value of
existence, what would be the result of it? The
thought of recurrence is a principle of selection in
the service of power (and barbarity !).
The ripeness of man for this thought

1059.

\\ 1. The thought of eternal recurrence: its first
principles^hich must necessarily be true if it were
true. WhaJ; its result is.

2. It is the most oppressive thought : its prob-
able results, provided it be not prevented, that is
to say, provided all values be not transvalued.

3. The means of enduring it: the transvalua-
1 tion of all values. Pleasure no longer to be found

in certainty, but in uncertainty ; no longer " cause
and effect," but continual creativeness ; no longer
the will to self-preservation, but to power; no
longer the modest expression " it is all only sub-
jective," but " it is all our work ! let us be
1 proud of it."

I

ETERNAL RECURRENCE. 425

IO60.

In order to endure the thought of recurrence,
freedom from morality is necessary ; new means
against the i^oX pain (pain regarded as the instru-
ment, as the father of pleasure ; there is no accre-
tive consciousness of pain) ; pleasure derived from
all kinds of uncertainty and tentativeness, as a
counterpoise to extreme fatalism ; suppression of
the concept "necessity" ; suppression of the " will " ;
suppression of " absolute knowledge."

Greatest elevation of man's consciousness of
strength, as that which creates superman.

1061.

The two extremes of thought — the materialistic j
and the platonic — are reconciled in eternal recur-
rence : both are regarded as ideals.

1062.

If the universe had a goal, that goal would
have" been reached by now. *i_anx_§ort oT~un-
foreseen final state existed, that state also would
have Jbeen reached. If It were capable of any
'Halting or stability of any " being," it would only
have possessed this capability of becoming stable
for one instant in its development ; and again
becoming would have been at an end for ages,
and with it all thinking and all "spirit." The
fact of " intellects " being in a state of development
\ proves that the universe can have no goal, no

426 THE WILL TO POWER.

final state, and is incapable of being. But the old
habit of thinking of some purpose in regard to all
phenomena, and of thinking of a directing and
creating deity in regard to the universe, is so
powerful, that the thinker has to go to great pains
in order to avoid thinking of the very aimlessness
of the world as intended. The idea that the
universe intentionally evades a goal, and even
knows artificial means wherewith it prevents itself
from falling into a circular movement, must occur
to all those who would fain attribute to the uni-
verse the capacity of eternally regenerating itself
— that is to say, they would fain impose upon a
finite, definite force which is invariable in quantity,
like the universe, the miraculous gift of renewing
its forms and its conditions for all eternity.
. Although the universe is no longer a God, it must
still be capable of the divine power of creating
and transforming; it must forbid itself to
relapse into any one of its previous forms ; it
must not only have the intention, but also the

\ means, of avoiding any sort of repetition ; every
second of its existence, even, it must control every

\ single one of its movements, with the view of
avoiding goals, final states,. and. repetitions — and
' all the other results of such an unpardonable and
insane method of thought and desire. All this is
nothing more than the old religious mode of
thought and desire, which, in spite of all, longs to
believe that in some way or other the universe
resembles the old, beloved, infinite, and infinitely-
creative God — that in some way or other " the
old God still lives" — that longing of Spinoza's

ETERNAL RECURRENCE. 427

which is expressed in the words " deus sive natura *
(what he really felt was "natura sive deus").
Which, then, is the proposition and belief in which
the decisive change, the present preponderance of
the scientific spirit over the religious and god-
fancying spirit, is best formulated ? Ought it not
to be : the universe, as force, must not be thought
of as unlimited, because it cannot be thought of
in this way, — we forbid ourselves the concept in-
finite force, because it is incompatible with the idea
of force? Whence it follows that the universe
lacks the power of eternal renewal.

1063.

The principle of the conservation of energy
inevitably involves eternal recurrence. ^J

1064.

That a state of equilibrium has never been
reached, proves that it is impossible. But in
infinite space it must have been reached. Like-
wise in spherical space. The. form of space must
be the cause of the eternal movement, and ulti-
mately of all " imperfection."

That "energy" and "stability" and "immut-
ability " are contradictory. The measure of energy
(dimensionally) is fixed,though it is essentially fluid.

" That which is timeless " must be refuted. At
any given moment of energy, the absolute condi-
tions for a new distribution of all forces are present ;
it cannot remain stationary. Change is part of

428 THE WILL TO POWER.

its essence, therefore time is as well : by this
means, however, the necessity of change has only
been established once more in theory.

1065.

A certain emperor always bore the fleeting
nature of all things in his mind, in order not to
value them too seriously, and to be able to live
quietly in their midst. Conversely, everything
seems to me much too important for it to be so
fleeting ; I seek an eternity for everything : ought
one to pour the most precious salves and wines
into the sea ? My consolation is that everything
that has been is eternal : the sea will wash it up
again.

1066.

The neiv concept of the universe. The universe
exists ; it is nothing that grows into existence and
that passes out of existence. Or, better still, it
develops, it passes away, but it never began to
develop, and has never ceased from passing away ;
it maintains itself in both states. ... It lives on
itself, its excrements are its nourishment.

We need not concern ourselves for one instant
with the hypothesis of a created world. The con-
cept "create" is to-day utterly indefinable and
unrealisable ; it is but a word which hails from
superstitious ages ; nothing can be explained with
a word. The last attempt that was made to con-
ceive of a world that began occurred quite recently,

ETERNAL RECURRENCE. 429

in many cases with the help of logical reasoning,
— generally, too, as you will guess, with an
ulterior theological motive.

Several attempts have been made lately to show
that the concept that " the universe has an infinite
past " {regressus in infinituni) is contradictory :
it was even demonstrated, it is true, at the price
of confounding the head with the tail. Nothing
can prevent me from calculating backwards from
this moment of time, and of saying : " I shall
never reach the end " ; just as I can calculate
without end in a forward direction, from the same
moment. It is only when I wish to commit the
error — I shall be careful to avoid it — of reconcile
ing this correct concept of a regressus in infinitum
with the absolutely unrealisable concept of a finite
progressus up to the present ; only when I con-
sider the direction (forwards or backwards) as
logically indifferent, that I take hold of the head j
— this very moment — and think I hold the tail : !
this pleasure I leave to you, Mr. Diihring ! . . . j

I have come across this thought in other
thinkers before me, and every time I found that
it was determined by other ulterior motives
(chiefly theological, in favour of a creator spiritus).
If the universe were in any way able to congeal,
to dry up, to perish ; or if it were capable of
attaining to a state of equilibrium ; or if it had
any kind of goal at all which a long lapse
of time, immutability, and finality reserved for it
(in short, to speak metaphysically, if becoming
could resolve itself into being or into nonentity),
this state ought already to have been reached.

H

430 THE WILL TO POWER.

But it has not been reached: it therefore
follows. . . . This is the only certainty we can
grasp, which can serve as a corrective to a host
of cosmic hypotheses possible in themselves. If,
for instance, materialism cannot consistently escape
the conclusion of a finite state, which William
Thomson has traced out for it, then materialism
is thereby refuted.

If the universe may be conceived as a definite
quantity of energy, as a definite number of centres
of energy, — and every other concept remains
indefinite and therefore useless, — it follows there-
from that the universe must go through a calcul-
able number of combinations in the great game of
chance which constitutes its existence. In infinity^
at some moment or other, every possible combina- 1
tion must once have been realised ; not only this, i
but it must have been realised an infinite number]
of times. ) And inasmuch as between every onef
of these combinations and its next recurrence

I every other possible combination would neces-
sarily have been undergone, and since every one
of these combinations would determine the whole
series in the same order, a circular movement of
absolutely identical series is thus demonstrated :

\ the universe is thus shown to be a circular
movement which has already repeated itself an
infinite number of times, and which plays its
game for all eternity, — This conception is not
simply materialistic ;~tor if it were this, it would
not involve an infinite recurrence of identical cases,
but a finite state. Owing to the fact that the uni-
verse has not reached this finite state, materialism

ETB -CE 431

shows itself to be but an imperfect and pro-
visional hy do the sis.

1067.
And do ye know what "the universe" is to my
mind? Shall i show it to you in my mirror?
This universe is a monster of energy, without
beginning or end; a fixed and brazen quantity oi
energy which grows neither bigger nor smaller,
which does not consume itself, but only alters
its face; as a whole its bulk is immutable, it
is a household without either losses or gains,
but likewise without increase and without
sources of revenue, surrounded by nonentity as
by a frontier. It is nothing vague or waste-
ful, it does not stretch into infinity; but it
is a definite quantum of energy located in
lirdted space, and not in space which would be
anywhere empty. It is rather energy every-
where, the play of forces and force-waves, at
the same time one and many, agglomerating here
and diminishing there, a sea of forces storm-
ing and raging in itself, for ever changing,
for ever rolling back over incalculable ages
to recurrence, with an ebb and flow of its
forms, producing the most complicated things
out of the most simple structures; producing
the most ardent, most savage, and nost contra-
dictory things out of the quietest, most rigid,
and most frozen material, and then returning
from multifariousness to uniformity, from the
play of contradictions back into the delight
of consonance, saying yea unto itself, even in
this homogeneity of its courses and ages; for
ever blessing itself as so; letting which recurs
for all eternity,- a becoming which knov;s not
satiety, or disgust, or weariness:- this, my
Dionysien world of eternal self -creation, of

432 THS WILL TO PO*

eternal self-destruction, this mysterious
world of twofold voluptuousness; this, my
"Beyond Good and Evil" without aim, , unless
there. is an aim in the bliss of the circle,
without will, unless a ring must by nature
keep goodwill to itself,- would you have a
name for my world? A solution of all your
riddles? Do ye also want a light, ye most
concealed, strongest and most undaunted men
of the blackest midnight?- This world is
the Will to Power- and nothing else! And
even ye yourselves are this will to power -
and nothing besides!

B Kietzsche, Friedrich W^lheli

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1909

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